# LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. | 






f UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. ^ 




LB^ ^ % % t! IK l^\ 1:^ t) 




THE 



IIPEEIAL GUARD 



OF 



NAPOLEON: 



FROM MARENGO TO WATERLOO. 



jJTHE LIBRARY 

mf CONGRESS 

^, BY II ^^ 

fl WASHINGTON 

J. T/ HEADLElt^f=======^^ 

AUTHOB OF "napoleon AND HIS MAESHAI^." 



\ 



NEW YORK: 
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 

1852. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, bj 

J. T. HEADLEY, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
• District of New York, 









\^ 



^' 



C. W. BENEDICT, 

Steeeotyper and Pkinteb, 
201 William Street 



INTEODUCTION. 



The present work lays no claim to originality. It 
is also without pretension, being designed as a sim- 
ple history of the Imperial Guard of I^apoleon. 

The materials for it were mostly collected in the 
preparation of my "ITapoleon and his Marshals," 
and hence it was comparatively an easy task to ar- 
range them in a connected and intelligible form. At 
first sight there might seem to be a good deal of repe- 
tition of scenes described in that work, because 
reference is necessarily made to them. But what in 
the former work is a mere reference made to give a 
right conception of a battle or campaign, in this be- 
comes a full and detailed account. In the former 
the main features of a conflict are delineated, and 
the conduct of the Guard only mentioned incidentally, 
while in the latter the battle-field and the main opera- 
tions of the army are sketched only enough to allow 



iv LNTKODUCTION. 

the introduction of the Guard upon the scene. So 
that while the reference to the same things are con- 
stant, the details are entirely different. Two or three 
exceptions to this remark occur in the present work 
but I thought that the reader in these cases would 
prefer a repetition to a hiatus in the history of the 
Guard. 

I believe there is the description of but a single 
battle in the whole book, although the conduct of the 
Guard in action and its heavy onsets are of course 
necessarily dwelt upon. Still it is meant to be rather 
a domestic than military history. Judging by my own 
feelings, I thought there were many who having always 
taken a deep interest in the recital of its deeds would 
be glad to know more of its formation, internal ar- 
rangements, and by what moral and other means . it 
became such a terrible corps. I have been as much 
interested in its social private life as in its public 
conduct, and dwelt with more pleasure upon those 
incidents and anecdotes illustrating its sense of 
honor, noble j^ride, and steadfast integrity, than in 
the march of its iron columns through smoke and 
fire to victory. 1 believe that others will feel the 
same. 



INTRODUCTION. V 

The facts are taken from a variety of works which 
I need not here enumerate. The statistics, however, 
and most of the details exhibiting the private life, if 
I may so term it, of the Guard, are taken from a 
French work entitled, " Historie Populaire de la 
Garde Imperials^ par Emile Marco de Saint Hiliare^'^ 
It is a large work, comprising some five hundred 
closely printed pages. I should have given credit to 
it in the body of my work, since many scenes are 
in fact translations condensed, but the references 
would have been endless. I have used it without 
stint. The illustrations are mostly taken from it. 

To those who doubted my statements respecting 
the origin of the wars of France, in my " JSTaj^oleon 
and his Marshals," I submit, with the earnest wish it 
should receive their careful attention, the last chapter 
in this work. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER L 

'* PAOB 

The origin of the Imperial Guard— Plan on which it was first constituted— 
The Consular Guard of Napoleon — The Moral Character of the Old 
Guard. U 

CHAPTER II. 

Marengo— The bloody baptism of the Consular Guard — Its firmness — Bona- 
parte's eulogium upon it after the battle — ^Lannes made commander — Changes 
Introduced— Anecdote of Lannes and Napoleon — Napoleon's attack on long 
queues and long hair — Shearing of the Guard — Anger of the officers and gen- 
erals — ^Distribution of the Legion of Honor— Description of the Mamelukes 
of the Guard. 29 

CHAPTER III. 

Eecommencement of the War— The Camp of Boulogne— The Old Guard at 
Austerlitz — Meeting of the Imperial Guards of tlie Czar and Napoleon — 
The Guard at Jena— The Velites— Young Desherbiers — Habits of Napoleon 
in campaign — His Body Guai'd — Presentation of the Eagle to a new regi- 
ment ...-..- ^ 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

CHAPTER IV. 

Creation of a regiment of Polish Lancers— Tlie Old Gnard at Eylan- Cam- 
paign of 1807 — Treaty of Tilsit— The interview of Napoleon with Alexan- 
der — His Influence over him — The Old Guard in Spain — Miraculous de- 
spatch of Napoleon when he heard of the confederacy in Germany against 
him — Ilis rapid ride, -----------66 



CHx^PTER V. 

Organization of the Young Guard — Campaign of 1303 — Extraordinary exer- 
tions of Napoleon — His rapid success — Bombarding of Vienna, and first 
courtship of Maria Louisa — Disgi'ace of a surgeon— The Old Guard at As- 
pern — Its last charge — Incident showing how Napoleon punished the least 
neglect of his Guard — The Guard at Wagram — Sublime spectacle— Its artil- 
lery heads Macdcnald's charge — Difficulty of appreciating the conduct of the 
Guard. T» 



CHAPTER VI. 

Marriage of Napoleon to Maria Louisa — Augmentation of the Old Guard — 
Grand review of the Old Guard at Paris — Touching incident — The brave 
drummer and General Gros — Napoleon's treatment of them — Secret of Na- 
poleon's influence over his troops, was in the affection he inspired — His pro- 
digious memory — Conversation with the Russian Chamberlain. - - 95 



CHAPTER VII. 

Increase of the Guard — Birth of the king of Eome — ^The excitement and joy 
of the Parisians at the event — Creation of the pupils of the Guard— Their 
review in presence of the Old Guard — Napoleon's address to both — Anec- 
dote of one of the pupils. The pupils in service to the young king of 
Eome. 109 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Russian Campaign — Sublime spectacle of the army of invasion — The Old Guard 
at Borodino — Gallant Charge and death of Caulincourt — Strange conduct 
of Napoleon — The 0!d Guard in the Kremlin — Anecdote illustrating its hon- 
esty — It saves the chest of the army at Beresina. - - - - - 11 9 



CONTENTS. . ix 

PAoa 
CHAPTER IX. 

Narrow escape of Napoleon— Disorder of the army on arriving at Smolensko 
—Firmness of the Old Guard— The famine in the city— Gloomy departure— 
The Guard passing a Eussian battery— The Old Guard at Krasnoi— The fall 
of Minsk, and gloom of Napoleon— His appeal to the Old Guard— His joy at 
Ney's safety— The Old Guard at Beresina— Its frozen bivouacs— Anecdote 
of an officer— Departure of Napoleon for Paris, a,nd the breaking up of the 
Guard — Last dreadful days. ---•...... 135 



CHAPTER X. 

Keorganization of the Army— Death of Bessieres— The Old Guard at Lutzen 
—Its Last Charge— Drouot; his character— Death of Dm-oc- Mournful 
Scene around the tent of Napoleon— The Guard in Bohemia— Its astonish- 
ing march to Dresden— Its bravery— Napoleon in its squares on the battle- 
field—Tableau—The Old Guard at Leipzic— The retreat— Battle of Hanau 
won by the Guard— It leaves forever the scene of its achievements. - - 15G 



CHAPTER XL 

Napoleon vnth Europe against him— Gare of his Guard— The Guard at Eo- • 
thiere— Captain Hauillet— Terrible cross march to attack Blucher— Victory 
of Champs d'Aubert— The Old Guard at Montmirail— Its victory— Its pro- 
tracted marches and battles— Overthrow of Blucher— Eeturn of the Guard 
to the help of Victor and Oudinot— Its last battles and marches — Desertion 
of Napoleon by his friends at his abdication— Faithfulness of the Guard— 
The parting scene at Fontainbleau— The Guard by the side of its foes— Its 
bearing and aspect -------.-.. jg^ 



CHAPTER XII. 

Its bearing towards its foes— Its anger at losing its colors— The Old Guard at 
Elba — Napoleon's liabits — Anecdotes illustrating the discontent of the troops 
in their exile — Their return to France and march to Paris— Eeception of the 
Guard— Last charge at Waterloo. -----... 22T 



CHAPTER XIII. 



Bage of the Guard at the surrender of Paris— Is disbanded— Pait come to 
Americar— Champ d'Asile in Texas— Last of the Guards— Tomb of Napo- 
leon. 



253 



X • CONTENTS. 

PA&B 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Eeview of the dead — The office of the French Eevolution — "Who is respons** 
ble for the wars that desolated Europe for so many years — Bonaparte's pol- 
icy as general — As First Consul — His offers of peace rejected — England vio- 
lates the treaty of Amiens — Napoleon's relation to the free States he had 
organized — Austria violates the treaty of Presbom-g — Invasion of Eussia — 
Treachery of Austria and Prussia — Fall of Napoleon — Campaign of Water- 
loo 273 



• THE OLD GUARD 



OHAPTEE I. 

The Origin of the Imperial Guard- Plan on which it was first constituted — The 
Consular Guard of Napoleon — Its Baptism of Blood at Marengo— The Moral 
Character of the Old Guard. 

The Imperial Guard — or as it is more familiarly 
known, the Old Guard of E'apoleon, is as much 
renowned in modern as the Greek Phalanx was in 
ancient war. When the latter, eight or sixteen 
thousand strong, shoulder to shoulder, and shield 
touching shield, moved sixteen deep on the enemj, 
the battle was over. So when the eagles of the Old 
Guard were seen advancing through the smoke of 
the conflict, the result was no longer doubtful. Its 
whole history is an illustration of the moral and 
physical power which a great idea imparts. 

Called npon only in great emergencies, it came to 
regard itself as the proj) of the empire. "When its 
columns were ordered to move to the attack, every 



12 



THE OLD GUARD. 



soldier knew it was not to execute a manoeuvre, or 
perform a subordinate part in the battle, but to 
marcli where the struggle was deadliest, and the fate 
of the army was to be decided. He knew, too, that 
over the dead and dying, over flaming batteries, and 
through ranks of steel, the steady battalions were to 
go. The bugle was never to sound a retreat for him, 
and no reserve help him sustain the shock. It was 
the consciousness of this great responsibility that 
made it great and irresistible. This idea alone filled 
the mind, leaving no room for fear of death. The bear- 
skin caps of the grenadiers were never seen advancing 
to the charge without causing a shout from the whole 
army. The force it possessed over others was as 
much moral as physical. Beaten troops rallied at its 
approach, and desi^air gave way to confidence, and 
the cry of terror was changed into the shout of victory. 
The enemy on the other hand when they saw the 
deep and massive columns of the Guard approach- 
ing, were already half beaten. The prestige of 
victory that went with its eagles paralyzed tlieir arms, 
and they struggled against hope. So well known 
Avas it when they were ordered up, that the final hour 
of one or the other army had come, that the contest 
along the difierent portions of the line became appa- 
rently of no account, and everj^thing waited the re- 
sult of their shock. So perfect was their discipline, 
that their tread was unlike that of other regiments, 



ITS LOVE FOE NAPOLEON. 13 

while the consciousness of their power gave a gran- 
deur to their movements, no body of men in ancient 
or modern times have possessed. Their bivouac at 
night and their squares in position on the battle-field, 
were always the great objects of interest, for they en- 
folded the emperor. N'apoleon loved them devotedly, 
and always called them his children. They never 
suffered while anything was to be had, and he would 
listen kindly to the suit of the meanest soldier. And 
well did they deserve his love. For him, they knew 
no weariness or pain. His presence amid them com- 
pensated for all losses ; and at his voice, and for his 
welfare, they would move steadily and cheerfully on 
death. The care he took of them, and the pride he 
felt in them, and the glory with which he covered 
them, naturally produced a strong and abiding at- 
tachment. He was proud of their appearance, and 
always gave them a prominent place in his great 
exhibitions at Paris. He allowed liberally for 
the expenditures of the ofiicers, wishing them to be 
dressed magnificently, although habited himself in 
the plainest costume. The dress of the drum-major of 
the Foot Grenadiers alone cost $6000. So richly work- 
ed in gold was it, that in 1809, when the Old Guard 
made its triumphant entry into Yienna, the ladies 
said, that the drum-major would make a more pro- 
fitable prisoner than I^apoleon. Even the musicians 
and surgeons were dressed in this sumptuous uniform. 



14 , THE OLD GUAiiD. 

The gorgeous appearance of the chief officers con- 
trasted well with the grave, austere costume of the 
battalions of the Guard. When in front of their 
lines, the former appeared like the S]3arkling foam 
and crest of the wave that swept darkly after. 

N^apoleon took an interest in everything pertaining 
to the officers of his Guard, even their marriages. 
He was not less solicitous they should be good citizens 
than good officers. One day, Dorsenne having ex- 
pressed some astonishment at this paternal solicitude, 
especially in regard to the approaching marriage of 
an officer, l^apoleon replied, " Are you not all lions ? 
Yery well, it is important the race should not perish. 
France and myself will have need of new claws and 
new teeth, when yours can no longer serve us." 
The same interest extended to the children of those 
who fell in battle. They v/ere provided for and well 
educated. Speaking once to Davoust, of the reluc- 
tance of the soldiers of the Guard, to leave it even for 
promotion among the troops of the line, he said, "My 
old soldiers had rather eat a piece of bread near me, 
than a chicken a hundred leagues from my person. It 
is true that if they are not able to leave yie, it also 
gives me great pain to part from them." He inquired 
into the wants of the soldiers, and often playfully 
asked them, " My grumblers, are you in want of any- 
thing ?" The uniform answer was " nothing." The 
discipline was very severe, and the least departure 



rrS STEICT DISCIPLINE. 15 

from duty was visited with punisliment. It was 
more rigorous than in the army of the line. ISTapo- 
leon, had said, " If I wished only intrepid men, I 
conld take at hazard the first soldiers in the army I 
came to, bnt I desire more, I want good conduct, mo- 
rality and obedience, and this I find difiicult." These 
words were often commented on in the Guard, and 
cases of punishment were rare. Absence when the 
morning roll was called was punished with two days 
in the hall of police ; absence at the evening roll, four 
days in the hall of police, and eight days of constant 
duty ; sleeping away from his quarters, fifteen days 
in the hall of police, and a month of constant duty ; 
di-unkenness and insubordination brought the dun- 
geon, and a repetition of the offence, expulsion from 
the corps. Even when out of their barracks, the 
hand of discipline was on them. They were forbid- 
den to promenade with suspected women, and haunt- 
ing bad places and taverns. They were not allowed 
to walk in the Palais Royal. In the day-time they 
might cross the garden, if in their route, but in the 
night, never. Their amusements naturally took a 
simple and innocent direction, their manners grew 
polite and affable, so that they became examples of 
good behavior in the midst of a turbulent population. 
Even on fete days, when great license was allowed, 
they were quiet in their deportments, and subdued in 
their mirth, as though it became them who held so 



16 THE OLD GUARD. 

high a trust, and so marked a position, to be reserved 
and composed. Each man seemed to feel that the 
honor of the whole corps was entrusted to his keeping. 
This sentiment and thought- pervading every heart 
imparted that steady valor and unwavering constancy 
amid the dispirited and flying army, fast perishing 
in the snows of Russia. It is a singular fact, that for 
fourteen years, E"apoleon did not expel a single officer 
of any grade from the Guard. 

He wished it to be an example to the rest of the 
army, and so it was in discipline, obedience, good be- 
havior and heroic courage. It was on this account 
that a duel among its officers always threw him into 
a great rage, as indeed a duel among any of his offi- 
cers. During the campaign in Egypt, Junot, his first 
aid-de-cam|) and Lannes, fought a bloody duel, in 
which the former received a frightful sabre cut, 
which well nigh sent him to his grave, and the latter 
had his head nearly opened. When Desgenettes in- 
formed ISTapoleon of it, he was furious. " What!" he 
exclaimed, " do they wish to cut each other's throats. 
They have been among the reeds of the IN^ile to dis- 
pute with the crocodiles for the palm of ferocity, and 
to leave to them the corpse of him who should be 
be slain ? Have they not enough of the Arabs and 
the plague ? They deserve that I should call them 
before me, and that ^ ^ * ^y And then after 
a moment of silence, he added, " l!^o, I do not wish to 



A DUEL. 1 T 

see them. I do not wish any one even to speak to 
me of them." 

The severe manner in which he vented his displea- 
sure against Filangieri, the godson of his sister, for 
killing General Franceschetti, was well known, and 
dnels after a while became of rare occurrence among 
the officers of the Guard. One harmless duel ending 
in a farce never came to his ears. It has been 
published as having occurred between two Spanish 
officers, whereas, the true heroes of it were two 
captains of the horse grenadiers of the Guard. 
One of them had spoken in a light, joking manner to 
the sister of the other. The latter demanded that an. 
apology should be made to her in presence of the as- 
sembled family. The former refused, and a challenge 
was the consequence. They met in the woods of 
Boulogne, and had already drawn their swords, when 
a laboring man, till then unnoticed, advanced, and 
addressing the combatants in a piteous tone said, 
"Alas ! my dear officers, I am a poor joiner without 
work, and the father of a family." " Eh, my brave 
fellow," said one of the seconds, " retire, this is no 
time to ask for alms ; do you not see that these gen- 
tlemen are about to cut each other's throats ?" " It is 
for that reason, my brave officers," he replied, " that 
I have come to ask the preference." "What pre- 
-ference ?" they exclaimed. " To make the coffins of 
these two gentlemen, for I am a poor joiner without 



18 THE OLD GTJARD. 

work, and the father of a family." At these words, 
the two antagonists paused, and gazed on each other 
a moment, then bm^st into a simultaneous peal of 
laughter. Their anger was over, and advancing, they 
shook hands, and then retired to a restaurant to finish 
their quarrel with forks over a well-covered table. 

'No matter who was the victor in a duel, ISTapoleon 
always punished the challenger. " A duel," he was 
wont to say, " is no indication of courage — it is the 
fury of a cannibal." 

The same rigor was shown to every departure from 
duty. Thus more by internal regulations than out- 
ward forms, did he gradually perfect the charac- 
ter of the Guard. By visiting with displeasure acts 
which did not come under the rules of military dis- 
cipline, he taught them to curb their passions, and 
show an example of uprightness and integrity as well 
as bravery to the army. The soldiers of it received 
extra pay, and especial favors were lavished on them 
by ]S"apoleon. This he knew would not be borne by 
the rest of the army, unless deserved not only by 
superior service but a higher character. l*Tever 
pillaging a conquered city, or giving way to the 
license of a common soldier, while quartered in 
it, the latter naturally regarded them as superior — as 
occupying a rank above them, akin to that of an offi- 
cer. J^apoleon said, he would not be disquieted by 
the conduct of soldiers attached to his person. 



ITS MOEAL CHARACTER. ' 19 

So strict "was their integrity and so nice their sense 
of honor, that in every city occnpied by the French 
troops, they left more or less grateful recollections of 
themselves among the inhabitants. Their upright de- 
portment and conciliatory behavior were remembered 
long after; for on Napoleon's final abdication, these 
veterans distributed themselves over the world, and 
received kindnesses from the very countries they had 
sv^rept through as conquerors. 

So in garrison, at home, instead of being riotous 
and quarrelsome, they prevented quarrels among the 
citizens, and left behind them the esteem and good 
■will of all. 

The character of the Old Guard, as delineated 
above, was the result of education and discipline. It 
required time to perfect it, but after it was formed it 
distinguished this renowned corps to the last. I have 
been thus particular in describing its moral qualities 
because they are less known — its deeds shall illus- 
trate its military character. 

In Bonaparte's first campaign in Italy, he had sim- 
ply his stafi:* about him. In Egypt, a corps which he 
named guides^ acted as a personal guard, most of 
whom returned with him to France, at length became 
incorporated in the Guard. He said that a narrow 
escape from being once made prisoner in Italy, sug- 
gested to him the organization of this corps. 

A national and imperial Guard have been common 



20 THE OLD GUAED. 

to all monarcliial and despotic governments. France 
had the former during the revolution. It was on this 
Bonaparte thundered with his cannon, when he 
quelled the sections. He was then at the head of the 
Guard of the Convention, a corps formed to protect 
that body from the violence of the mob. It was com- 
posed of four companies, united in a single battalion, 
with sappers, drummers, and a band of musicians ; and 
numbered at first, officers and all, but five hundred 
men. In it, however, were the young Murat, Lefe- 
bvre, Guisard, Monnet, and many others who after- 
wards attained high rank and renown. Robespierre, 
Couthon, St. Just, and others, had their creatures in 
the ranks, and it was a miserable, inefficient corps. 
After the death of the former, the Convention purged 
it thoroughly of its bad members, and added to it 
men of a different stamp, so that when Bonaparte put 
himself at its head to quell the revolt of the sections, 
he found it, especially the grenadiers, a warlike and 
well-disciplined body of soldiers. 

After the overthrow of the Convention, and the 
establishment of the Directory, the Guard of the Con- 
vention became the Guard of the Executive Directory. 
An order was issued fixing its number at a hundred and 
twenty foot soldiers, and a hundred and twenty cavalry. 
The Directory also continued the work of purgation, 
and incorporated into the corps, the veterans of the 
Rhine, Sambre-et-Meuse, Pyrenees and Italy. A 



ITS OKIGLN. 21 

severe discipline was introduced, and soon, under the 
instructions of men, who had learned the art of war 
on the field of battle, iDecame one of the finest regi- 
ments of the arm J. 

"When Bonaj^arte plotted the overthrow of the Di- 
rectory, he introduced emissaries into the Guard, who 
soon worked the soldiers over to the interests of their 
future master, so that when Moulin, one of the Direct- 
ors, endeavored to rouse them in defence of the govern- 
ment, they quietly remained in their barracks. On 
the 20th Brumaire, when Bonaparte was saluted First 
Consul by the people, he went to the Place 
du Carrousel, at the head of a magnificent staff, to 
review the regiments that formed the garrison of 
Paris. The Guard of the Directory formed the right 
of the line of battle, and as Bonaparte halted in front 
of it, he announced that, in future it was to be the 
" Guard of the Consuls." Long live General Bona- 
parte, rent the air along the whole line, and the Iin- 
]?erial Gxiard was l)orn. 

This was the nucleus of the Consular Guard, which 
in the end, became the famed Imperial Guard, whose 
name sent terror over Europe. The change that imme- 
diately passed over this corps, was indicative of the 
future plans of its chief. From two companies, com- 
prising 270 men, it was raised to 2089 men, divided 
into one company of light infantry ; two battalions of 
foot grenadiers ; one company of horse chasseurs ; two 



22 THE OLD aUAED. 

squadrons of cavalry ; one company of light artillery, 
of wliich a third was mounted. 

It may be of interest to some to see the first organi- 
zation of this famed Guard : 

Staff Officers of the Commander - - - 71 

Inferior Officers of Infantry - - - 17 

2 Battalions of Grenadiers - - . - 1,188 

1 Company of Chasseurs - - - 99 
Superior Officers of Cavalry - - 19 

2 Squadrons of Grenadiers - - - - 468 
Company of Horse Chasseurs - - - 117 

10 D. of Artillery - 110 



Total, - - 2,089 

This is the number as fixed by the decree of the 
Consuls. Only a small portion of these, however, 
was given to Consul Bonaparte as General of the 
army. 

When he took the bold resolution to make the 
Tuileries his palace, the first thing he did in the 
morning, was to review the Consular Guard, and the 
half brigades, which were still in barracks in Paris. 
Passing through their ranks, he addressed flattering 
words to the chief ofiicers of the corps, and then plac- 
ing himself before the pavilion of the clock, with 
Murat on his right and Lannes on his left, and behind 
him a numerous staff of young warriors, bronzed 
by the sun of Italy and Egypt, he saw the troops de- 
file before hiixi. As the standards of the 96th, 43d 
and 30th demiw -rigades saluted him, presenting no- 



AN INCIDENT. 23 

thing "but shreds of banners riddled with balls and 
blackened with powder, he raised his chapeau, and 
bowed in token of respect. The shout that followed 
rocked the old palace to its foundations. The troops 
haying passed, he mounted with a bold step the stairs 
of the Tuileries, that none but a king ever before dared 
to occupy. It was a hazardous move on the part of 
the young chief of the republic, thus to foreshadow 
his future designs. He felt it to be such, and to off- 
set this^ assumption of regal splendor, a few days after 
he issued the following decree to the Consular Guard, 
" Washington is dead ! This great man has fought 
against tyranny, and consolidated the liberty of his 
country. His memory will always be dear to the 
.French people, as to all free men in both hemispheres, 
and especially to the French soldiers, who, equally 
with the American soldiers, fight for liberty and 
equality. The First Consul, therefore, decrees that 
for ten days black crape shall be hung on the stan- 
dards and colors of the Consular Guard." 

The distribution of " arms of honor," in reward for 
great deeds, was also very popular, and prepared the 
way for the future creation of the " Legion of Honor." 

A third incident helped to increase the popular en- 
thusiasm for [N'apoleon, and to attach the Guard still 
more strongly to him. A sergeant of grenadiers, who 
was noted for the remarkable feats in arms he had 
performed, received one of these " arms of honor," a 



24: THE OLD GUARD. 

fine sabre. Immediately on its recejjtion, lie wrote 
the following naive letter to the First Consul, in which, 
it will be observed, he forgets to thank his benefactor 
for the gift, and simply enumerates his own deeds and 
asks a favor. It commences : 

"Leon Aune, Sergeant of Grenadiers, in the 32d demi-brigade, 
to citizen Bonaparte, First Consul at Paris. 

Citizen First Consul : Your arrival upon the territory of 
the Republic has consoled all pure souls, chiefly mine. Hav- 
ing no hope but in you, I come to you as my guardian deity, to 
pray you to give a place in your good memory to Leon, whom 
you have so often loaded with favors on the field of battle. 

Not having been able to embark with you for Egypt, there 
to reap new laurels under your command, I find myself at the 
depot of the 32d demi-brigade, in the quality of a sergeant. 
Having been told by my comrades, that you often spoke of me in 
Egypt, I pray you not to abandon me, while you make me know 
that you remember me. It is useless to remind you of affairs, 
where I have shown myself a true republican, and where I have 
merited the esteem of my superiors. Nevertheless, you will not 
forget that at Montenotte, I saved the life of General Rampon, 
and the Chief of the Brigade, Masse, as they will certify. At 
Diego, I took a stand of colors from the Chief Engineer of the 
Army of the enemy : at Lodi, I was the first to mount to the 
assault, and I opened the gates to our brethren in arms; at Borg- 
hetto, I w^as among the first who passed the bridges— the bridge 
giving way, T was cast among the enemy, and took the comman- 
dant of the post prisoner. A little after, being made prisoner 
myself, I slew the hostile commanding officer, and by this action, 
rescued four hundred more prisoners, like myself, and enabled 
them to re-join their respective corps. Moreover, T have five 



LEON AUNE. 25 

wounds upon my body. I dare then to hope, and am well per- 
suaded, that you always have regard for those who have so well 
served their country. 

Health and respect, 

LEON AUNE." 

This letter, more distinguished, we must confess for 
its simplicity and honesty, than for its modesty, fur- 
nished Bonaparte, an admirable opportunity for pro- 
ducing an effect upon his Guard, and indeed the 
whole army. He intended his answer should be 
made public, although apparently written as a private 
note. He wrote — 

" I have received your letter, my brave comrade. You did not 

need to refresh my memory ; you are the bravest grenadier, since 

the death of Benezete ; you have had one of the sabres that I 

have distributed to the army. All your comrades, with owe 

accord, pronounce you worthy of it above all others. I desire 

much to see you ; the Minister of War, sends an order for you 

to come to Paris. 

BONAPARTE." 

The sensation this letter caused in the army was 

prodigious. What, the First Consul of the Eepublic, 

and the greatest General of modern times, write to a 

common sergeant, and call him " my hrave comrade P'' 

He might occupy forty Tuileries with the pomp of 

an emperor, such language would atone for all in 

the sight of the army. A better republican could 

not exist. This letter was a double hit, for it not 

only removed from the soldiers whatever suspicions 
2 



26 THE OLD GUAKD. 

might have arisen of Bonaparte's designs, when they 
saw him ascend the steps of the Tuileries, as its occu- 
pant, but it fired them with the loftiest enthusiasm. 
"Who would not fight bravely under a chieftain who 
bestowed such epithets on the humblest soldier for 
deeds of daring ? 

But Bonaparte's chief favors were lavished on his 
Guard. Already he seemed to forecast the future, 
and see the terrible corps with which he was to sur- 
round his person. This attention to his guard soon 
produced feelings of envy and rivalry in other regi- 
ments of the army, which at length bi'oke out into 
quarrels and serious confiicts. One day a trumpeter 
of the mounted chasseurs of the Guard was conversing 
at the entrance to the barracks with some under- 
officers like himself, when several masters of arms in 
the army of the line approached and demanded to 
see their colleagues — the masters of arms of the chas- 
seurs, intending it as an insult to the trumpeter and 
his friends. "They rest in Egypt," was the reply. 
"But, trumpeter," said one, as he gave his moustache 
a contemptuous twist, " you ought to have some one 
of them remaining." The trumpeter replying in the 
negative, the masters showed so clearly that they 
were bent on a quarrel, that the former became im- 
patient and exclaimed, " Oh, well, gentlemen, enter 
the barracks, shut your eyes, and the first man you 
put your hands on will prove to you that, if the mas- 



A QUAEEEL. 2T 

ters and provosts of the regiment rest in Egypt, their 
good swords yet remain." This was sufficient ; each 
chose his champion, and, in a few minutes, four 
masters of arms were put hors du corribat. Eugene 
Beauharnais, who was then but chief of a squadron 
of chasseurs, hearing of it, called the trumpeter to 
him and reproached him bitterly. The latter de- 
fended himself on the ground that he was provoked 
into the quarrel. " I detest bullies," broke in Eu- 
gene, with a tone that did not admit a reply. " Let 
me hear no more of such scandalous conduct. As to 
you, if it happens again, I will put a blade of wood 
in your scabbard." "My commander," said the 
trumpeter, smiling, "there will still be means to 
brush the clothes of those who would throw dirt 
upon ours." 

A few days after, new provocations were given to 
the chasseurs of the Guard, when a quarrel ensued 
which finally drew fifty men into a deliberate fight. 
Mm'derous work would have followed had not Lefeb- 
vre, who had been apprised of it, charged on them with 
a squadron of horse grenadiers. 

These quarrels, however, were soon forgotten in 
more serious events, and the Consular Guard was to 
place itself beyond the reach of envy and be looked 
up to as a model, and not frowned upon as a rival. 
The peace was over, and Boliaparte directed his vast 



28 THE OLD GrAED. 

energies, whicli had been employed in developing 
the resources of the nation, to the war which threat- 
ened him on every side. The campaign of Marengo 
was at hand. 



onAPTEE n. 

Marengo — ^The bloody baptism of the Consular Guard — Its firmness — Bonaparte's 
eulogium upon it after the battle — Lannes made commander — Changes introduced 
— ^Anecdote of Lannes and Napoleon — ^Napoleon's attack on long queues and 
long hair — Shearing of the Guard — Anger of the officers and generals — Distribu- 
tion of the Legion of Honor — ^Description of the Mamelukes of the Guard. 

DuRiNG- Bonaparte's campaign in Egypt, France 
had lost her possessions in Italy ; and, after his re- 
turn, he determined to make that country again the 
field of his conquests. 

One hardly knows which to wonder at most, the 
resurrection he gave to France in the few months 
that succeeded his election as First Consul ; the de- 
velopment of her internal resources and strength, or 
the magical army that seemed to rise at his touch 
from the earth, and the next moment hang in three 
mighty columns amid the glaciers of the Alps. As 
in his expedition to Egypt he had completely out- 
witted both England and the Continent, which re- 
mained to the last moment ignorant of the destination 



30 THE OLD GUAED. 

of his army, so now lie managed to mislead Europe 
as to tlie point where lie designed to strike. It was 
generally supposed that he was on his way to Genoa, 
to relieve Massena, who was starving to death within 
its walls. That brave veteran thought so too, and long 
and patiently waited to hear the thunder of his can- 
non, amid the Appenines. But Bonaparte was seeking 
the Austrian general, Melas, though, strange as it may 
seem, when he had reunited his divisions in the 
plains of Piedmont he could not find him. It was 
owins: to this ignorance of the whereabouts of Melas 
that his army became so divided. Having scoured 
the plains of Marengo, of which a few months before 
he had spoken as the spot for a great battle, without 
finding the enemy, he supposed he must have taken 
flight. He never dreamed that if he intended to give 
battle at all, he would leave the plain— above all the 
village of Marengo unoccupied. He, therefore, left 
Yictor with two divisions at Marengo, and Lannes with 
one division en echelon in the plain, and hastened back 
to his head quarters at Yoghera, hoping to hear news 
of the enemy from Moncey on the Tessino, or Duhes- 
me, on the Lower Po. Luckily for liim, however, the 
Scrivia had overflowed its banks, so that lie was 
-compelled to stop on the other side. Despatches 
were received from these oflicers, stating that all 
was quiet in their sections. He then decided that 
Melas must have gone by ^^ ay of ISTovi to Genoa, and 



MAEENGO. 31 

despatched Desaix with a single division, to inter- 
cept him. Great was his surprise, therefore, in the 
morning, when a courier from Yictor, burst in a wild 
gallop, into Torre di Garofolo, announcing that the 
whole Austrian army was crossing the Bormida and 
marching straight upon Marengo. Yictor had scarcely 
sent off his despatch before the enemy, 40,000 strong, 
sustained by two hundred pieces of artillery, was 
upon him. Sixteen thousand men were all he had, 
with which to oppose this formidable array. But for 
the little muddy stream of Fontenone, along whose 
banks he had placed his army, the battle would have 
been irretrievably lost, long before Bonaparte could 
arrive. As it was, nothing but the most stubborn re- 
solution held that ground. Immense batteries 
thundered on his shivering lines, almost within 
pistol shot, making horrible gaps at every discharge. 
His ranks melted away around him like men of mist, 
still he maintained his ground, anxiously waiting the 
arrival of Bonaparte, If he could not hold that 
position he was lost, for nothing but the little village 
of Marengo lay between him and the vast open plain, 
where the cavalry of the enemy would scatter his 
army like dust before the wind. For two mortal 
hours did he stand on the edge of that narrow stream 
and see his army sink, whole ranks at a time, before 
the murderous discharges of artillery. One division, 
stationed in the open field, was almost entirely anni- 



6^A THE OLD GUAKD. 

hilated by grape shot. At length the Austrians 
forced the stream. The French commanders put 
forth almost superhmnan efforts, to stop the flow of 
troops across it. But they were compelled to retire, 
leaving the field heaped with the dead. The road was 
filled with wounded and disbanded soldiers, the latter 
crying that all was lost. Lannes, though outflanked, 
was making desperate efibrts to hold on with his left 
wing to Marengo, his last remaining hope. Ketreat 
was impossible, it would become a slaughter in the 
open plain. Pressed by that mass of artillery, 
and chased by clouds of cavalry, his beaten, and 
already half destroyed division, would be crushed to 
atoms. 

This was the state of things at ten o'clock, when 
Bonaparte came on a full gallop to the field. As soon 
as he received Victor's despatch, he sent for Desaix, 
and taking with him a single division and his Consular 
Guard, set off; a reserve of cavalry was to follow. 

Casting his eye over the disastrous field, he saw but 
the shattered and fiying remnant of the army, but he 
also saw, at a glance, that where Lannes still held 
Marengo, was his only hope. He must there make 
a stand and rally his troops in the rear. It was then 
he rode up to the Consular Guard, and bade them 
march into the open plain and hold the cavalry of 
the enemy in check. These eight hundred forming 
instantly into a square, moved forward and presented 



THE COLUMN OF GRANITE. 83 

their wall-like sides to the Austrian horse. In the 
meantime Bonaparte flew with his fresh troops to the 
help of Lannes. As the wearied soldiers of the lat- 
ter saw the escort that told of the approach of 
their commander, they sent up a loud shout, and 
rushed with renewed fury to the assault. Lannes 
performed prodigies ; and at first, success smiled on the 
efibrts of Bonaparte — ^but at length overborne by 
superior numbers, he was compelled to retreat. Then 
came a trial to which all the rest, murderous as it had 
been, was as nothing. To move into the open plain, 
pressed by a victorious army, with such heavy 
artillery and numerous cavalry, was testing the nerves 
of officers and men to the utmost. 

Yet all this time the Consular Guard remained un- 
shaken. " A living citadel" it moved over the plain, 
rolling from its adamantine sides the successive 
waves of cavalry that dashed against them. Bona- 
parte's eye often turned anxiously to it. At moments 
it would be lost to view, apparently engulfed by the 
enemy. The dark mass that shut it in, would th^i 
rend asunder, and there moved that wall-like enclosure, 
the fire pouring in streams from its sides. Lannes 
fought like a lion, carrying his squares slowly 
and sternly over the plain, though eighty pieces of 
artillery hurled their iron storm upon his mutilated 
ranks. 

The Consular Guard till now had been attacked 
2* 



34: THE OLD GUARD. 

only bj cavalry. It seemed impossible that so small 
a body of men, forming but a mere speck on that vast 
plain, could resist the overwhelming squadrons. 
Astonished at such resistance, the enemy at length 
brought forward his artillery. Round and grape shot 
smote through the thinned ranks till it was supposed 
they were so dreadfully shaken that the cavalry could 
ride them down with ease, when they were ordered 
again to charge. Advancing on a sweeping gallop, 
they burst with redoubled fury upon this mere hand- 
ful of men. Again and again they thundered on that 
firm formation, but when the dust and smoke cleared 
away there it stood solid and terrible as ever. Be- 
coil and melt away it must, and did, but break 
or fly it never w^ould. In the midst of a vast plain, 
surrounded by tens of thousands of men and horses, 
pressed by a victorious foe, enveloped in dark masses 
of cavalry that kept falling in successive shocks on 
its exhausted ranks, rent by cannon shot — in the in- 
tervals of the roars of artillery their ears assailed by 
cries of terror from their flying comrades — ignorant 
how the battle was going in other parts of the dis- 
ordered field, save that the whole army was in full 
retreat, this band of eight hundred men, now reduced 
to a mere handful, never thought of flying. 

In the midst of this tumult and carnage, when they 
seemed no 'longer struggling for victory, and intent 
only on showing how brave men should die, a sight 



ITS FIKST BAPTISM. 60 

burst on tlieni tliat filled every heart with the wildest 
enthusiasm. As the cloud of battle rent a moment 
before them, thej saw in the midst of the turbulent 
plain,. IN'apoleon, surrounded by his staff and two hun- 
dred mounted grenadiers, bravely breasting the storm. 
At the view an involuntary and frantic hurrah burst 
from that solid square, and " vive Najpoleon^'' rolled 
over the field like the shout of victory. 

That single square, though dreadfully narrowed, 
and bleeding at every pore remained as perfect in 
its formation at the close of that disastrous retreat, 
as when it first marched into the plain to stem the 
tide of battle. To use the expressive metaphor of 
Bonaparte, it stood, during those five hours of 
slaughter, a " column of granite." 

The arrival of Desaix, and the defeat of the 
Austrians, are well known. Italy was reconquered. 
Eonaparte, after the battle, addressing Bessieres, who 
commanded the guard, said, " The Guard which you 
coimnand is covered' with glory?^ The lesson he 
learned that day was not lost upon him. He saw 
what could be done with a body of picked men, bound 
to him by affection, and borne up with the conscious- 
ness of the high trust committed to their charge. Such 
men were irresistible. 

This was the first baptism of the Guard, and a 
more bloody one it could not well have had. 

Lannes, as a reward for his bravery, was appointed 



36 THE OLD GUARD. 

commander of it. In N^ovember of tlie next year, 
1801, however, it underwent a change, and four 
general officers were appointed over it. General 
Davdust for the Foot Grenadiers, General Soult for 
the Foot Chasseurs, Bessieres for the Cavalry, and 
Mortier for the Artillery and Matelots. 

Lannes, of course, lost his command w^hich he had 
so nobly earned, some say because he managed the 
chest of the Guard loosely, and rendered false ac- 
counts of the money he received. This is doubtful, 
still he lived in the most prodigal manner, and ex- 
pended more than he was authorized to do, thus 
setting an example which would not answer in the 
commander of a Guard, whose character Bonaparte 
had determined should be without reproach. Others 
attributed his dismissal to his too great familiarity of 
manner. The dignity of the First Consul could not 
permit that freedom from his first lieutenants, which 
the extravagant notions of equality then pervading 
the army, sanctioned. Lannes and Augeraeu, blunt 
and republican in their habits and thoughts, often 
took unwarrantable liberties with Bonaparte, relying 
on their great deeds to screen them from rebuke. It 
is said that a short time previous to the new appoint- 
ments in the Gu^rd, as Bonaparte one day ordered 
some Barbary horses, which had been sent to him 
as a ]3resent, to be brought into the court at Malmaison, 
Lannes, who was present, proposed a game of bil- 



Al^ INCIDENT. 37 

liards, the stake to be the price of one of the horses. 
Bonaparte consented ; they played and Lannes won. 
The former, no doubt, designed he should, making 
use of the proposal of his brave lieutenant to bes'tow 
on him a favor. 

" I have beaten thee," said the latter, (for he was 
accustomed to thee and thou Bonaparte like a quaker,) 
and of course I have the right of choice," and with- 
out waiting for permission, he ran out and examined 
the horses, and having selected the most beautiful, 
put on the saddle and bridle, and springing into the 
seat, spurred away at a gallop saying, "Adieu, Bona- 
parte, I will not dine here to-day, for if I remain thou 
wilt succeed in getting back thy horse." JSTapoleon 
did not esteem his Ajax any the less for this ; he knew 
his brave heart too well, but he saw that the repeti- 
tion of such scenes would weaken his authority and 
prevent that absolute submission to his will which he 
required of the Guard. Lannes was sent ambassador 
to Lisbon. 

1802, 1803, AND A PART OF 1801. 

Bonaparte soon issued a new decree respecting the 
Guard, augmenting it still more. Among other changes 
he made soldiers of the drivers of the artillery wagons. 
Upheld by no feeling of honor and subject to no pro- 
motion, however daring they might be in carrying 
tlie guns into the enemy's fire, they at the moment 



38 THE OLD GUARD. 

the action became hot, would cut the traces and gal- 
lo]3 off. Bonaparte decreed that they should wear 
the nniform of the soldiers and be incorporated into 
the army. He decreed also that the whole military 
* force should be called upon to furnish recruits when- 
ever needed to the Guard — their admission in it to 
be the reward of bravery and good conduct. Several 
qualifications were necessary to render a soldier a fit 
candidate. He must be in active service, he must 
have made at least four campaigns, obtained rewards 
for deeds of arms or noble conduct, or been wounded. 
The grenadiers must be at least five feet six inches 
high, and the chasseurs five feet four inches, and 
each one to have maintained an irreproachable char- 
acter. 

An incident occurred at this time which shows how 
sensitive Bonaparte was to the lea'st demoralizing in- 
fluence in his Guard. Two grenadiers having com- 
mitted suicide, he added the following note to the 
order of the day. " The grenadier Gaubin has com- 
mitted suicide from disajDpointment in love ; he was 
in other respects a good subject. This is the second 
event of the kind that has happened to the corps in 
a month. The First Consul ordains that it shall be. 
affixed to the order of the Guard that a soldier ou2:ht 
to know how to overcome the grief and melancholy 
arising from his passions ; that to bear with constancy 
the pains of the soul, shows as much true courage as 



CHANGE OF UNIFOEM. 39 

to rest fixed and immovable under the fire of a bat- 
tery. To abandon one's self to cbagrin without resis- 
tance, to slay one's self -to get rid of it, is to desert 
the battle-field before the victory." 

It was by such means he taught those who were 
in future to serve him with blind devotion, never ask- 
ing or caring what were his orders, that self-endur- 
ance and heroic resolution which, years after, in the 
snows of Russia, astonished the world. 

THE IMPERIAL GTJAED, 1804. 

After various political changes, Bonaparte was at 
length declared emperor. To the decree of the 10th 
Thermidor, 29th of July, was simply added, " The 
Consular Guard will take in future the name of the 
Imperial Guard, and will continue to be specially 
attached to my person." 

Soon after he began to introduce changes in the 
uniform of the Guard. The first innovation was a 
bold push, laughable from its insignificance, but 
withal, a serious matter; this was no less than to 
compel not only his Guard, but the whole army to 
dispense with their long queues and long hair of 
which mey were as proud and tenacious as the Ger- 
mans and Gauls, according to Tacitus, w^ere in the 
time of Caesar. 

One day after a review of the troops, Napoleon 
standing in the hall of the Marshals, surrounded by 



40 THE OLD GUARD. 

the chiefs of the separate corps, broke out into one of 
those biting sarcasms which so often made those wince 
who heard them. He began with the hats. " Decided- 
ly, gentlemen," said he, " I do not wish to see my troops 
any more wear the chapeaux. It is always placed on 
their head in such a manner as to make a gutter of 
one corner. It is as disagreeable to the sight as inju- 
rious to the health of the soldier. It is ridiculous in 
a day of rain or great heat, or as to-day when we 
have had both together ; to see a soldier with the 
collar of his coat covered with a white paste, his hair 
badly held together by an equivocal riband, his fore- 
head and cheeks running with a milky water, and the 
whole covered with a narrow hat, badly Shaped, 
which protects the face from neither rain nor sun ! 
One needed only to see them in Italy and Egypt. 
Poor devils, I suffered for them." One of the officers 
hinted at an ordinance, when IsTapoleon broke out 
again, winding up with an attack on " long tresses and 
useless queues.^'' " How, sire," exclaimed the same 
officer, "would you shear all without distinction," 
" Yes sir," he replied, " like sheep." The former sug- 
gested that it would be impossible to obtain the con- 
sent of the officers to such a change, so attached were 
they to their locks. A glance of fire was the reply, 
as he exclaimed, " I should like to see, Monsieur Col- 
onel, the men who owe everything to me, my soldiers, 
in a word, to reflect on the thing at all, is it not suffi- 



ATTACK ON QUEUES. 41 

cient that I wish it? Is it for my Guard to object 
when I require that all should have their hair shorn ?" 
Passing his hand quickly over his own head, he 
added, " Do I wear a queue, is not my hair cut 
close ?" " Yes," said Junot, " and the soldiers of the 
Guard call you nothing but the "little shorn" — U 
fetit tondu, 

Napoleon smiled in spite of himself, and said, " very 
well, the more reason — a soldier should always follow 
the example of his chief. I am aware that some fop 
or Adonis of an officer will not be very well sat- 
isfied ; but those who will not be content * * * ^ " 
He left the sentence unfinished, and crossing his 
hands behind him, promenaded awhile in silence, 
in the circle of officers that surrounded him. At 
length he said I will speak to Bessieres and Murat 
about it, I will commence by demanding Murat to 
sacrifice that head of hair a la Louis XIY., which, 
with om- habits and military costume is ridiculous. 
The chiefs of the army must show examples of obe- 
dience. I wish neither tresses nor queues nor pow- 
der nor pomatum." Saying this he bowed and passed 
out. 

The same day Murat who had assisted at the review 
of the mornino^, comino; to receive the orders of the 
Emperor, asked if he had been pleased with the re- 
view. " Yes," said I^apoleon, but (fixing his eyes on 
the long hair of his beautiful brother-in-law) added, " I 



4:2 , THE OLD GUARD. 

should have been better pleiised if joii liad cut off all 
the tresses and queues of your cavaliers." Murat said 
nothing, but bowed and disappeared among the crowd 
of officers that w^ere assembling. He saw at once that 
the reign of queues was over. At the extremity of the 
gallery he met Bessieres, one of the four commanders 
of the Guard, whose immense queue was a subject of 
remark throughout the whole army. " Eh bien, my 
dear fellow," said he in a tone half sorrowful and 
half joking, " thou hast heard the words of the Em- 
peror — no more queues ! Accept in advance my con- 
dolence on the approaching fall of yours." "My 
dear sir," replied the young marshal, " the roots of a 
queue like mine reach near to the heart, and the Em- 
peror with all his power cannot make me cut it off. I 
hope our old comrades of Italy and Egypt will prove 
refractory as myself in this matter." 

The next day ^Napoleon spoke again to Murat, who 
although he sympathized with Bessieres, did not dare 
to express his sentiments. At length turning towards 
him, the Emperor said laconicall}^, " My Guard alone 
shall wear the queue, and it shall not be more than 
two inches long, such shall be the ordinance." • 

The reign, of queues was over ; the young officers 
adopted the change cheerfully, and on the day of the 
publication of the ordinance, the barbers' shops near 
the quarters of the troops were filled from morning 
till night, and more than two thousand queues were 




.:i:ii«afci,-i2&?ti.i3i«SS!.'£V2«!CeSKSSi:- . 



LEGION OF HONOR. 43 

sacrificed. But in the same evening there were more 
than twenty duels. A quarrel commenced hy one 
calling another just sheared, a spaniel. Friends on 
either side, took part in it, till the whole corjDs was 
involved, and, for awhile, serious difficulty was threat- 
ened. It required great tact to settle quietly the rage 
caused by this onslaught against tresses and queues. 

An appropriate uniform for every portion of the 
Guard was adopted and it soon reached that eminence 
and deserved the character given of it in the preced- 
ing chapter. 

Each of the corps of foot and mounted grenadiers 
and chasseurs of the Guard furnished a battalion and 
squadron to attend the emperor in his imperial resi- 
dence. They were relieved every three months. 
Each of the corps of infantry was on service alternate 
weeks. 

Soon after Bonaparte's elevation to supreme power, 
he made a grand display in the distribution of the 
cross of the Legion of Honor to those of his Guard 
who were selected as members. Surrounded by his 
his magnificent staff, escorted by his troops, met with 
salvos of cannon, he proceeded to the place where the 
distribution was to take place. The decorations were 
taken from a basin of gold, and affixed to each one 
pronounced worthy of the honor. No one at this day 
can conceive the excitement and enthusiasm caused 
by the distribution of this simple decoration. At 



44 THE OLD GIJABD. 

Boulogne, shortly after, the same distribution was 
made to the army, and, if possible, in a more impos- 
ing manner and causing greater enthusiasm. As ISTa- 
poleon in the presence of the assembled thousands 
called the scarred veterans of Italy and Egypt to him 
and spoke of Montenotte, of Lodi, Areola, Maren- 
go, of the Pyramids, and of Egypt, tears rolled down 
their cheeks, and when the ceremony was finished, 
the very heavens rocked to the shouts of " Yive I'Em- 
pereur." 

In addition to the more regular corps of the Impe- 
rial Guard, there was a squadron of Mamelukes, a 
memento, as it were, of the Pyramids and the battles 
of the Mle. 

It was formed from the corps of " Guides " which 
Bonaparte had in Egypt, and had nothing of the 
Mameluke about them but the oriental costume. 
This squadron with its horse-tail standard, its white 
heron plumes rising over the Asiatic turban, its tim- 
brels and trumpets and all the trappings of the horses, a 
la Turk — its elegant dresses covered with gold lace 
and silk — its bright Damascus blades, presented a 
most singular yet picturesque appearance, amid the 
bear skin caps and heavy armor of the cuirassiers. 
There was also a small corps of Marines, with a blue 
uniform. It had also two squadrons of gend'armes d'e- 
lite, who performed the police duty at head quarters, 
and a fine Italian battalion. Its artillery arm was at 



ADDITIONS TO IT. 45 

this time strengthened, numbering in all, 24 pieces 
of cannon. At the close of the year 1804, the Guard 
numbered 9,798 men, though nominally composed of 



CHAPTEE ni. 

Recommencement of the "War — The Camp at Boulogne — The Old Guard at Auster- 
litz — Meeting of the Imperial Guards of the Czar and Napoleon — The Guard at 
Jena — The Velites — ^Young Desherbiers— Habits of Napoleon in Campaign — His 
Body Guard — Presentation of the Eagle to a New Eegiment. 

After a few years of peace, England, by her per- 
fidious violation of the treaty of Amiens, brought 
on a war between herself and France. Napoleon, no 
longer shackled by divided power was now free as 
Caesar. His vast and restless mind could sweep the 
horizon of his dominions, and find nothing to inter- 
fere with his great plans. Laying his hand on the 
mighty empire, just passed into his keeping, he 
wielded it with the ease he managed a single army. 

With one of the best armies that ever stood on the soil 
of France, possessing, at the same time, all the advan 
tage of a long rest and thorough discipline, and the 
experience of veterans, he resolved to punish England 
for her perfidy, and teach her that while she stirred 
up Europe to strife and bloodshed, she too might 
reap the curse of war, carried to her own soil. 



BOrLOGNE. 47 

But while collecting his ^ast Tlotillas and training 
his soldiers at Boulogne, preparatory to the invasion 
of her territory, he was informed that a powerful 
coalition was forming against him on the Continent. 
Sweden, Russia, Austria, and England had entered 
into an alliance, and even Prussia was vacillating 
between making common cause with the allies and 
remaining neutral. Called at once from his designs 
of invading England, the Emperor turned his eye 
northward, and eastward, and southward, and lo, 
armies in each direction were marching against him. 
Four hundred thousand soldiers were making ready to 
strike France and her territories from four different 
points. He at once penetrated the designs of the allied 
sovereigns, and with that marvellous power of combi- 
nation, no other chieftain has ever possessed, he marked 
out the plan of the entire campaign at Boulogne, pre- 
dicted the movements of the allied armies, the blunders 
they would commit, chose his own routes, and accom- 
plished what he proposed. l!^ever had captain, either 
in ancient or modern times conceived and executed 
plans on such a scale. " ISTever indeed had a more 
mighty mind, possessing greater freedom of will, 
commanded means more prodigious to operate on 
such an extent of country." From Calabria to the 
Gulf of Finland, he had the whole Continent to look 
after, for he was menaced on every side. 

The allies prosecuted their plans leisurely, having 



48 THE OLD GTJAED. 

little fear of an army encamped on tlie shores of the 
ocean. But there was a stir in that camp which por- 
tended evil somewhere. 

ISTo one knew E'apoleon's plans. France even 
remained in ignorance of them. The army itself was 
ignorant of its destination, bnt in twenty days, to the 
astonishment and consternation of Enrope, its terri- 
ble standards shook along the Mayn, the IsTeckar, and 
the Hhine, and the shout of " Yive V Mnjpereur^'' 
rolled over the plains of Germany. This army ITa- 
poleon called the " Grand Army," a name it ever 
after bore ; and those who saw it sweeping on, column 
after column of infantry, miles of artillery, long files 
of cavalry, and last of all the Old Guard, with the 
Emperor in its midst, in all 186,000 men, re-echoed 
the appellation " The Grand Army." 

The Old Guard had left Boulogne by post. Twenty 
thousand carriages, loaded down with the troops 
were whirled away towards Germany, whither the 
army marched with unparalleled speed. 

On the 2Tth of August, most of this immense force 
lay at Boulogne ; on the 25th and 26 th of September 
it crossed the Khine. On the 13th of October amid 
a storm of snow, ISTapoleon harangued the weary troops 
of Marmont, that had just arrived, and explained to 
them his plans, and told them he had surrounded the 
enemy. On the 18th, Mack agreed to surrender 
Ulm with an army of 80,000 men to him as prisoners 



ATTSTERLITZ. 49 

of war. By the 20th he could look back on his 
operations and behold an army of eighty thousand 
men destroyed, sixty thousand of whom had been 
taken prisoners with two hundred pieces of cannon, 
and eighty stands of colors. All this had been done 
in twenty days, with the loss of kss than two thousand 
men. 

On the 13th of l^ovember his banners waved over 
the walls of Vienna. Twelve days after he recon- 
noitred the field of Austerlitz, and selected it at once 
as the battle-field where he would overthrow the com- 
bined forces of Russia and Austria, led on by their 
respective sovereigns. With T0,000 men he had re- 
solved not to drive back the approaching army of 
90,000, but to annihilate it. He refused to take posi- 
tion where he could most efiectually check it advance, 
determined to win all or lose all. Matching his 
single intellect in the pride of true genius, against 
the two emperors with their superior army, he ca- 
joled them into a battle when they should have de- 
clined it ; in order to finish the war with a " dap of 
thunder P 

In the midst of that terrible battle while Soult was 
ascending the heights of Pratzen, pressing full on the 
enemy's centre, Lannes thundering on the left with 
artillery and cavalry, Oudinot on the right re-earning 
his marshal's staff, Suchet forcing the reluctant ene- 
my before him, a conflict took place in the presence of 



50 THE OLD GUAED. 

iN'apoleon and the allied sovereigns wliich gave a fin- 
ishing blow to the battle. The Grand Duke Constan- 
tine, seeing that it was going against hiin, took the 
whole Eussian Imperial Guard and leading them in one 
dark mass down the heights, moved midway into the 
low grounds to charge the advancing French. Yan- 
dame brought forward his division to meet the shock. 
"While he was thus eno^ao-ed with this immense and 
picked body of soldiers, the Grand Duke put himself 
at the head of two thousand heavy armed cuirassiers 
of the guards, and burst in resistless strength on 
the flank of Yandame's division. The French col- 
umn was rent asunder before it, and three battalions 
trampled under foot. IN'apoleon who was advancing 
to reinforce Soult with the infantry of his guard saw, 
from a height this overthrow, and exclaimed to 
Rapp who was by his side, "they are in disorder 
yonder, that must be set to rights." The latter 
putting himself at the head of the Mamelukes 
and chasseurs of the Guard, cried out, " soldiers, 
you see what has hapjDened below there, they 
are sabreing our comrades ; let us fly to their res- 
cue." Four pieces of horse artillery set off on a 
gallop in advance. The next moment those fiery 
horsemen were sweeping with headlong speed upon 
the Imperial Cavalry. A discharge of grape-shot 
swept through them thinning them sadly, but not for 
a !noment arresting the charge. The shock was irre- 



CAVALBY CHAEGE. 61 

sistible. Horse and horseman rolled together on the 
plain. The white heron plumes of the Mamelukes 
and the shakos of the chasseurs swept like a vision 
through the overthrown ranks and they were still 
pressing on even beyond the wreck of their own bat- 
talions which had just fallen, w^hen the fresh horse 
guard of Alexander fell upon them. With their 
horses blown from the severe conflict they had been 
enduring, this new attack proved too much for them. 
The brave Morland, Colonel of the Chasseurs, was 
killed on the spot, and the two corps forced back. 
iTapoleon who had watched with the deepest anxiety 
this terrific meeting of the Imperial Guards, no 
sooner saw the check of Rapp and the overwhelming 
force bearing down upon him from the re-formed 
cuirassiers, than he ordered Bessieres with the horse 
grenadiers, to charge. 'Not a moment was to be lost, 
the bugles rang forth the charge, and like a single 
man that living mass of disciplined valor went pour- 
ing forward to the strife. The steady gallop of their 
heavy horses shook the plain, and so accurate and 
regular was their swift movement, that they appeared 
like a dark and ponderous wave rolling onward. 
But the crest it bore was composed of glittering steel. 
Right gallantly was that tremendous onset received, 
and those vast bodies of cavalry the elite of both 
armies became mixed in a hand to hand fight. The 
firing of the infantry ceased, for the shot told on friend 



62 THE OLD GUARD. 

and foe alike. The soldiers rested on their arms and 
gazed with astonishment on that rearing, plunging 
mass from which was heard naught but fierce shouts 
and rino-ino^ steel as blade crossed blade in the fierce 
collision. The emperors of Russia and Germany on 
one height and ITapoleon on another, w^ atched with 
indescribable anxiety this strange encounter between 
the flower of their troops. At length the Imperial 
Guard of the enemy gave way. The bugles of the 
Old Guard then rang cheerily out, and Yandame 
charging anew, infantry and cavalry were driven in dis- 
order almost to the walls of Austerlitz. Their artillery 
and standards fell into the hands of the victors. ]S"a- 
poleon's joy was extreme on beholding this triamph. 
of his Guard over that of the Russian emperor. 

The two sovereigns had tried their last and heaviest 
blow, and had failed, and the battle though unended, 
was already won. . IN'apoleon had not merely defeated, 
he had routed and nearly annihilated the combined 
armies, and the two emperors were fugitives on the 
field. This wonderful mind had thus in a few months 
ended the war. I^ever did his genius shine out in 
greater brilliancy. " The secrecy and rapidity of the 
march of so vast a body of troops across France ; the 
semicircular process by which they interposed between 
Mack and the hereditary states and compelled the 
surrender of that unhappy chief with half his army ; 
the precision with which nearly two hundred thou- 



SKILL OF NAPOLEON. 63 

sand men converging from the shores of the channel, 
the coasts of Brest, the marshes of Holland, and the 
banks of the Elbe were made to arrive each at the 
hour appointed around the ramparts of Ulm, the 
swift advance on Yienna ; the subsequent fan-like 
dispersion of the army to overawe the hereditary 
states their sndden concentration for the decisive 
fight at Anstralitz ; the skill displayed in that contest 
itself and the admirable account to which he turned 
the fatal cross march of the allied sovereigns, are so 
many proofs of military ability never exceeded even 
in the annals of his previous triumphs." 

It is not to be supposed that in this great battle the 
action of the Imperial Guard was confined to a cavalry 
charge. I^apoleon found himself so inferior in 
numerical force, that he did not husband his Guard, 
as he afterwards did in Russia. He divided it up 
among different corps of the army, where they 
furnished an example during all that bloody day to 
the other troops, which made them irresistible. 
Pressing side by side with those bear-skin caps, they 
knew no repulse. In the previous battles the Guard 
had taken little part, and murmured grievously at 
their idleness, but at Austerlitz they were led into 
the thickest of the fio^ht. Soult had under him ten 
battalions of the guard. Oudinot and Davoust had 
ten battalions of the Grenadiers, and wild work did 
they make under those chieftains, with the stub- 



54: THE OLD GFAED. 

born ranks of the enemy. Their artillery was served 
throughout the battle, with terrible rapidity and pre- 
cision. Forty guns were at the disposal of the Guard, 
and wherever immediate he'p was wanted, thither 
they were hurried, sending desolation through the 
hostile ranks. 

At the commencement of the battle, l^apoleon 
retained near him only the Cavalry of the Guard, the 
mounted Chasseurs, the Grenadiers and Mamelukes. 
These were for a reserve, and were massed together, 
ranged in two lines, and by squadrons, and under the 
command of Bessieres and Rapp. Its light artillery, 
however, did fearful execution. It was every where 
belching forth fire. It was one of its batteries that 
played upon the frozen lake over which a column was 
endeavoring to pass, and breaking the ice with its 
shot, sunk two thousand in the water. It deployed 
with such rapidity, that its movements appeared 
more like cavalry in motion, than artillery, and 
the soldiers jokingly called it " Hussars on wheels." 

THE OLD GUAED AT JENA. 

These overwhelming victories made the allies 
desirous of peace, which was soon after ratified at 
Presbourg. But in the final settlement of the vexed 
questions of territory, Prussia felt herself so aggrieved 
and humbled, that she rashly flew to arms before the 



AT JENA. 65 

French arm}' had all left Germany. An immense 
force was assembled, and shej single-handed, resolved 
to overthrow the Conqueror of Europe, and that too 
with the army of the latter not yet beyond the Hhine. 
Napoleon beheld with sorrow this new war thrown 
upon his hands just as he had finished an arduous 
campaign and completed a peace, and was at first 
depressed. He saw only new dangers arise, as old 
ones were removed. But in the excitement of pre- 
paration these gloomy thoughts disappeared, and he 
rapidly made ready to meet the evils that threatened 
him. The Old Guard was immediately ordered to 
return. Transported in carriages, of which there 
were relays the whole route, they moved with the 
speed of Cavalry, and in a few days were again be- 
yond the Rhine. A hundred and eighty thousand 
Germans composed the army of Prussia. ISTapoleon 
had a larger force under him, to say nothing of the 
vast makeweight of his genius against the imbecilit}' 
of his adversary. 

The battle of Jena, fought on the same day as that 
of Auerstadt, under Davoust, finished the Prussian 
king. At Jena, l^apoleon had before him a force 
inferior to his own, although he supposed the whole 
Prussian army was on the heights of Landgrafenberg, 
Up the steep ascent that led to this plateau, already 
occupied by the enemy, he resolved to lead his army. 
At first the corps of Lannes and the Old Guard 



56 THE OLD GrARD. 

climbed through the ravines to the top. The Guard, 
four thousand strong, were then ordered to encamp 
in a square, and in the centre ^N^apoleon pitched his 
tent. A pile of stones to this day marks the spot 
where he bivouacked, and the people of the vicinity 
have changed the name of the height into N'apoleons 
berg. It was found such a heavy task to drag the 
artillery up the precipitous sides of the mountain, that 
search was made for an easier ascent. A ravine was 
discovered, but on examination it proved too narrow 
to admit the carriages. A detachment of engineers 
was immediately sent to cut away the rock, while to 
cheer on the men, wearied with their day's march, 
l^apoleon himself held a torch for them to work by. 
Late at night he ascended the heights and passed into 
the squares of the old Guard, to snatch a few hours 
repose. But as he approached their dark and motion- 
less ranks around which only a few fires were kin- 
dled, he cast his eyes over the plateau and saw the 
fires of the enemy covering its entire extent and far- 
ther away to the right with the old castle of Eckarts- 
berg above them, those of the Duke of Brunswick. 

In the morning before daylight, he was up and the 
soldiers stood to arms. It was cold and chilly and a 
fog enveloped the heights. Escorted by torches 
which shed a lurid light on his staff and on the 
ranks, he went along their front haranguing the sol- 
diers, bidding them receive the Prussian cavalry with 



AN INCIDENT. 57 

firmness, and promising a glorious victory. The 
shout " forward" which followed, was borne to the 
enemy's camp. 

The Old Guard, as usual, was ordered up to 
close the battle. As it advanced the whole line 
threw itself impetuously forward, and the field be- 
came covered with fugitives. Out of the 70,000 who 
had entered the battle, " not a corps remained en- 
tire." 

Advancing rapidly, the grand army entered Berlin 
on the 28th. For the first time, IS'apoleon made a 
triumphal entry into a conquered capital. Surrounded 
by the Old Guard dressed in rich uniform, he passed 
through the city. The dismounted chasseurs and 
grenadiers were in front, the horse grenadiers and 
chasseurs in the rear — in the middle rode Berthier, 
Duroc, Davoust, and Augereau, while in the centre 
of this last group in an open space left by himself, 
rode E'apoleon. He, and that Old Guard enfolding 
him in triumph as it had done in danger, were the 
centre of all eyes. 

In a month he had overturned the Prussian mon- 
archy and destroyed its boasted armies — the soldiers 
of the great Frederic. The overthrow of an empire 
was no longer the work of years, ISTapoleon dispatched 
it in a few weeks. 

Several changes had passed over the Old Guard 

during the last two years. Augmented as it had 
3* 



58 THE OLD GUAED. 

been, the expense of keeping it up was found to be 
too great. Neither would the mode of recruiting it by 
drawing the best troops from the line answer in a long 
and destructive war. It took away too many good 
soldiers and tended to demoralize the army. There 
had been previously created a corps of velites, a sort 
of enlisted volunteers to remedy the last evil by 
drawing from them instead of the army. But this 
also was too expensive, and ISTapoleon therefore formed 
a new regiment called the "fusilliers of the Guard," 
the soldiers of which should be selected from the 
annual contingent, the officers alone to be taken from 
the Guard. 

The velites were required to be young men of fam- 
ily. This was to obtain a certain amount of educa- 
tion and character, with which is usually joined a 
sense of honor, so important in a corps. Allured by 
the splendid renown of this new conqueror, dazzled 
by his amazing victories, young aspirants for fame 
flocked to his standard. Among them were many 
very young men. One of these, an only son of one 
of the most opulent families of the province in which 
he lived, enlisted at the age of eighteen. Yery fair 
and delicate, he appeared much younger, yet he 
cheerfully endured the fatigues of the march, and 
stood firm under the fire of the enemy. After the 
fall of Berlin, this young velite marched with the 



DESHEKBIERS. 69 

army into Yarsovie and nobly endured the hardships 
of the dreadful winter campaign that followed. 

It was IlTapoleon's custom in campaign to halt in 
the open country to take his meals. On these occa- 
sions he always had a dozen or so velites or chasseurs 
in a circle close around his person, to prevent any one 
from approaching. One day during a halt, as his 
faithful Mameluke, Roustan, was preparing his coffee, 
he saw a boyish velite posted opposite him. Struck 
by his beauty and aristocratic air, he called him and 
abruptly asked, " Who put you in my Guard ?" 

"Your majesty," replied the young Desherbiers. 

" I do not understand you," said IsTapoleon, " ex- 
plain yourself." 

" Sire, after the decree of your majesty which per- 
mitted young men of family to serve in your Guard, 
I fulfilled the requii 3d conditions, and am at my 
post." 

" Thou art a little fellow," said the Emperor, chuck- 
ling him under the chin. 

" Sire, I perform my duties the same as the largest 
in the regiment." 

" Have you ever been under fire ?" 

" Yes, Sire, at the passage of Berg." 

"That was warm work. Were not you a little 
afraid. Ah, ah, you blush, I have hit the truth." 

" Yes, Sire, I own it, but it lasted only a moment." 

" !N"ever mind, many others like thee have been 



60 ' THE OLD GUAED. 

afraid and it lasted a much longer time." After a 
short silence, he resumed, " thou art a good young 
man and like the rest of us, thou hast paid the tribute. 
Thou shalt dine with me, will that please thee." 

"Certainly, Sire!" cried the young velite, while his 
eyes sparkled with joy at the honor shown him, and 
placing his carbine near him he sat down opposite 
the emperor. Koustan waited on him with all the 
deference he would have shown to a general officer. 
Desherbiers took the slice of bacon which was handed 
him on a silver plate and began to eat with the vora- 
cious appetite his short allowance and hard duties 
had given him. As the Mameluke turned the wine 
into a silver goblet, Napoleon said smiling, " Ah, ah, 
gar9on, thou likest well to be served in a goblet, so that 
one cannot see how much thou drinkest. I wager that 
thou hast it refilled." 

" Even to the brim. Sire, the better to drink to the 
health of your Majesty." 

l!^apoleon joked him incessantly during the repast, 
but the young velite's replies were full of spirit and 
point. After it was over, he asked him his name, 
" Guiyot Desherbiers, Sire," he replied. Repeating 
the name over after him, he asked him if he was re- 
lative to a counsellor by that name in Paris, not long 
since dead. Being answered in the negative, he 
added, "very well, conduct yourself properly and T 



napoleon's memoet. 61 

will see to your advancement when tlie proper time 
shall come." 

The young velite made his military salute, took his 
carbine and was again at his post. 

I have related this anecdote to show on what terms 
Napoleon was with his .guard, and also the means he 
took to bind the brave to him. In the spirit and non- 
chalance of this young velite, his military ambition 
and education, he saw at a glance a future officer — • 
one of those granite pillars like Lannes, ITey, Mas- 
sena, Dav(5ust, and others who were carrying his 
victorious eagles over Europe. 

After his return from this campaign, ITapoleon 
went one day to see the velites, who, having been 
separated from the chasseurs, were stationed at Yer- 
sailles. As he approached the squadron, he re- 
quested the commander to order young Desherbiers 
from the ranks. The officer replied that he had been 
passed into a regiment of hussars, and was now in 
Spain. 

" Why was he put there, he was but an infant?" 

" On account of his gallant conduct at Friedland. 
He slew two Russian grenadiers with his own hand 
in sight of the whole squadron." 

" That makes a difference," said Napoleon, " it is 
all well." 

The young velite, however, never returned, he was 
taken by the guerillas, who put him to death with the 



62 THE OLD GUAED. 

most cruel tortures. He bore all with heroic cour- 
age, and with his last breath pronounced the names 
of Napoleon and a fair cousin in Paris. 

This incident illustrates forcibly the remarkable 
memory of ISTapoleon. The terrible scenes through 
which he had passed, the world of care that lay on 
his shoulders — plunged as he was into the very vortex 
of European politics and engaged with designs vast 
as a hemisphere — did not make him forget the young 
velite who had dined with him in Poland. This 
memory of the commonest soldier if he had shown 
any remarkable traits, or performed any deeds of 
valor had a wonderful effect on the troops. Each 
one felt that he was directly under the eyes of his 
sovereign and commander. He saw and remembered 
all that was done, and skill and daring would not go 
unrewarded. Slight as it may seem, next to the 
veneration his genius and deeds inspired, this was the 
grand secret of the strange power he had over his 
troops. 

The chasseurs always surrounded Napoleon's per- 
son during a campaign. It was necessary they should 
be ready at a moment's warning, for the movements 
of this ubiquitous being were sudden as lightning. 
When starting for the army he generally departed 
from St. Cloud, in the middle of the night or at one 
or two o'clock in the morning, and sometimes made' 
two hundred and fifty miles in twenty-four hours. 



NAPOLEON IN CAMPAIGN. 63 

Often he would stop for several hours, to dictate de- 
spatches, but at the words " allons, the carriage, to 
horse, gentlemen," there was "mounting in hot haste," 
and away they dashed, in a headlong gallop. An 
aid-de-camp was always stationed on horseback at the 
left side of the door of the carriage and an ecuyer 
at the right — the officers of ordinance, pages, piqueurs 
holding the horses by the head. Eoustan, the Mame- 
luke, and the domestics followed close after the car- 
riage. Twenty-four mounted chasseurs of the Guard 
completed the cortege, which swept like a tempest 
along the road. In this manner he would go twenty, 
thirty, and sometimes nearly forty miles without halt- 
ing. When he stopped all flung themselves from their 
horses at once, except the chasseurs, who remained in 
the saddle. But if he left the carriage, half of them 
immediately dismounted, and fixing their bayonets to 
their carbines presented arms, and stood facing out- 
ward, around him. But none of the officers left their 
places nnless he permitted it. When he wished to 
observe the enemy through his glass, the number of 
the Guard was doubled and formed in a square about 
him. This square adapted itself to his movements, 
enlarging or contracting itself, but never coming 
nearer than twenty-five or thirty ste^^s to his person. 

When he distributed favors to his Guard, such as 
grades, titles, or decorations, unless it was immedi- 
ately after a victory, every one knew that some serious 



64 THE OLD GUAED. 

affair was on hand. The review of the regiments of 
the Guard recently arrived, or harangues to his troops, 
was a certain prelude to an approaching battle. 
These harangues always produced a magical effect ; 
but nothing perhaps excited so wild enthusiasm as 
the presentation of the eagle to a new regiment of 
the Guard. On the day of the ceremony, the regiment 
with its arms and uniforms in perfect order, marched 
to the place appointed and formed into three close col- 
umns, the three fronts turning towards the centre — 
the space for the fourth being reserved for the superior 
officers and the suite of the emperor. As soon as the 
latter appeared, the officers put themselves in advance 
in, a single rank, so that he approached alone. By the 
simplicity of his dress he became more conspicuous, 
and presented a striking contrast to the brilliant uni- 
forms of his officers, which were sprinkled over with 
decorations and embroidered with silver and gold. Af- 
ter receiving the orders of the emperor, the prince of 
"Wagram, in his office of major-general, dismounted, 
and caused the colors to be taken from their case and 
unfolded before the troops. The drums then beat the 
march, and Berthier advancing, took the eagle from 
the hands of the officer and approached several steps 
towards Kapoleon. The latter uncovering himself 
saluted the banner; and removing the glove from his 
right hand, lifted it towards the eagle and in a solemn 
and distinct voice said, " Soldiers, I confide to you 



PRESENTATION OF THE EAGLE. 65 

the French eagle ; I commit it to your valor and pa- 
^triotism. It will be your guide and rallying point. 
You swear never to abandon it. You swear to prefer 
death to the dishonor of seeing it torn from your 
hands. You sv^ear itV The last words were pro- 
nounced with sudden energy, and in a moment the 
swords of the officers shook in the air, and " Yes, yes 
we swear it," rolled in one prolonged shout along the 
lines. The bands of music then struck in and " Yive 
V ErnpereuT^^ was repeated in frenzied accents over 
the field. 

In 1806, the Guard was composed of 15,656 men. 



CHAPTEK lY. 

Creation of a regiment of Polish Lancers — The Old Guard at Eylau — Cam- 
paign of 180T — Treaty of Tilsit — The interview of Napoleon with Alexander — 
His influence over him — The Old Guard in Spain — Miraculous despatch of Na- 
poleon when he heard of the confederacy in Germany against him — His rapid 
ride. 

The litter overthrow of the Prussian armies at 
Jena and Anerstadt did not wring a peace from the 
king. Pussia had formed an alliance with him, and 
her troops were already on the march for the frontiers 
of his kingdom. To meet this new enemy, l^apoleon 
pnshed on into Poland, where he designed to take up 
his winter quarters. This unhappy country received 
him with open arms, hoping, through his instrumen- 
tality, once more to have a national existence. At 
the outset a Polish guard of honor was fonned, which, 
together with the squadron of the Imperial Guard, 
w^as to look to the security of the emperor's person. 
Its fidelity and zeal suggested to E^apoleon the idea 
of incorporating into the Old Guard a corps of light 
cavalry, composed entirely of Poles. A decree to 




-;>;i^^'^'"'"^" "^ - 



m^^'K^^"^j 










ITS PAINFUL MAECF. 67 

that effect was issued, and four squadrons of lancers 
were joined to the cavalrv. % 

Before the winter set in there was a short cam- 
paign, in which the Russians were forced to retire, 
but the roads were in such a horrible state that the 
pursuit was slow and painful. The cavalry horses 
sunk up to their knees, and could only move on a 
walk. The artillery stuck in the mud and snow, and 
could not be pushed forward. JSTapoleon put forth 
23rodigious efforts with the Old Guard, to strike a de- 
cisive blow. These veterans, covered with sleet and 
snow, waded knee deep through the mud, performing 
the most painful marches wdth cheerfulness, because 
their leader was in their midst. Alternate snow, 
freezing weather, and thaws, exhausted their strength 
and benumbed their limbs. Their bivouacs at night 
were either on frozen ground or in fields made soft by 
the melted snow. 

The pursuit ended at l^aiselle, which the enemy 
suddenly evacuated. ISTapoleon entered a cabin to 
pass the night, and as one was cleaning out the straw, 
he uncovered a corpse which some faithful hand had 
concealed. The next day he began to retrace his 
steps to Yarsovie, and took up his winter quarters. 

The two armies remained inactive till near the close 
of December, when the Russian general resolved to 
surprise ISTapoleon by a winter march ; and, cutting 
his line in two, separate the two wings. The latter, 



68 THE OLD GUARD. 

penetrating his design, concentrated liis troops and 
advanced to give him battle. They met at Eylau. 

I shall not attempt a new description of this great 
bntcherj, in which the conquerors gained but a barren 
victory. The Old Guard at the commencement was 
placed in the cemetery of Eylau, into which the enemy's 
balls were soon crashing with murderous effect. 

The attack of Angereau, and the terrible over- 
throw of his division, brought on one of those crises 
which compelled Kapoleon to launch his grand re- 
serve, the Old Guard, upon the en6my. Il^othing 
could have been farther from his wishes than to com- 
promise his reserve so early in the battle. But the 
danger was imminent. A column of Russian grena- 
diers following up the flight of Angereau had pene- 
trated into the cemetery where ITapoleon stood, sur- 
rounded only by a hundred of his personal guard. 
Hour after hour he had stood unmoved while the 
cannon balls were crashing on the steeple and walls 
of the church above him. Without changing a fea- 
ture he had seen the annihilation of Angereau's divi- 
sion, and now with equal composure beheld three or 
four thousand grenadiers almost at his feet. Order- 
ing his personal Guard to advance and check them, 
he called up a battalion of the foot-guard a little in 
the rear. There w^ere six battalions that had taken 
no part in the contest except to stand and see their 
ranks rent by shot. With joy, therefore, they saw 



CHAKGE AT EYLAU. 69 

a prospect of mingling in the strife , Two battalions 
disputed the honor of charging the Eussians. The first 
in order marched forward, and without stopping to fire, 
overthrew the victorious grenadiers with the bayonet. 
In the meantime the terrible cavalry charge of 
Murat was preparing. Seventy squadrons, or more 
than fourteen thousand horse, in all the splendor 
of battle array, swept full on the Russian centre, 
stormed over their batteries and breaking the first 
line of infantry pushed on to the second, driving it 
back to the wood, where a battery of heavy artillery 
at last checked their victorious advance. In the 
meantime the broken first line rallied and began to 
hem in Murat. It was then that General Lepee, a 
brave and heroic officer, was ordered to charge with 
the horse grenadiers of the Guard. The heavy and 
iron clad squadrons galloped, shouting to the rescue 
of their comrades. Riding through the groups of 
infantry that had rallied, they smote down every- 
thing in their passage. The close fire of the artillery 
and charges of infantry made horrible gaps in their 
ranks, and around them shook as wild and disordered 
a field as the wintry heavens ever looked upon, but 
nothing could arrest their strong gallop. Compact 
as iron — and as the thunder cloud when rent by the 
lightning closes swiftly again, so did those stern 
squadrons close over every rent made by the destruc- 
tive batteries, and in one black mass crossed and re- 



TO THE OLD GUAED. 

crossed the field in every direction. Through the 
driving snow occasional glimpses of it was got bj 
ISTapoleon, and with joy he saw it unbroken sweep the 
field in the face of the enemy. 

Murat was relieved and able to re-form his cavalry 
and bring it off in good order, while the Russian centre 
was dreadfully shattered. General Dohlman comman- 
der of the mounted chasseurs of the Guard, fell not fif- 
teen steps from the Russian line. One of the chasseurs 
seeing his general under the bayonets of the enemy 
spurred recklessly forward in the fire, and dismounting, 
lifted him upon his horse. Surrounded by Russian 
hussars, he in turn received several wounds, one of 
which dislocated his arm. He was about to fall over- 
powered by numbers, when one of bis comrades, a 
chasseur of his squadron, seeing his peril fought his 
way up to him and relieved him. By the boldness of 
these two chasseurs, their general was enabled to get 
near the French lines before he died, and was thus 
spared the mortification of seeing himself a prisoner 
of the enemy. All the ofiicers and soldiers of the 
Guard on this murderous day sustained the reputa- 
tion gained in a hundred battles, and [N'apoleon loaded 
it with eulogiums. A Lieutenant Morlay, a color 
bearer of the 1st battalion of the 1st regiment of foot 
grenadiers, had the staff of his colors broken above 
and below his hand by the bursting of a shell which 
killed an officer and wounded five of his guard. 



AFfEE THE BATTLE. 71 

But instead of showing surprise, he coolly took up 
the colors and fixing the staff to a musket, carried 
them into the battle. A captain of the mounted 
grenadiers of the Guard, mortally wounded lay ex- 
tended on the snow, when some of his comrades com- 
ing up, wished to remove him. "Leave me alone, 
my friends," he said, " I am content since we have 
the victory, and I die on the field of battle." 

We will pass over the heart-rending scene the 
snow-covered field presented next morning. Napo- 
leon had never in his bloody career beheld such a 
spectacle, and he was more unnerved than in the most 
perilous crisis of the battle. One of his generals 
seeing his agitation, endeavored to lessen the evil by 
saying it was exaggerated, and spoke of the new 
glory the victory would give him. " To a father," re- 
plied l^apoleon, " who loses his children, victory has 
no charms — when the heart speaks glory itself is an 
illusion." The enemies of Bonaparte receive such 
manifestations of feeling on his part, with a smile of 
incredulity, declaring it impossible that a man whose 
whole career was marked with blood, and to whom 
the desolation and horrors of a battle-field were ac- 
customed spectacles, could ever utter such a senti- 
ment in sincerity. To other military chieftains they 
award all the kindly and noble feelings belonging to 
men in civic life. The scenes of slaughter through 
which they pass do not make wild beasts of them. 



72 THE OLD GUAKD. 

The Englisti generals in carrying out the aggressive 
policy of their government, and Eussian and Austrian 
commanders are endowed with the feelings common 
to our race, and yet the terrible battle which had 
heaped the snow plains of Eylau with dead bodies was 
fought in a defensive war on the part of E'apoleon. 
Prussia declared war against him, and Russia with- 
out the shadow of a reason, became her ally, and yet 
how few in this country ever think of blaming the 
real criminals in the affair, but on the contrary, heap 
on IsTapoleon the sin of it all. 

But independent of this, such a sentiment was 
natural to any man, even the most abandoned of our 
race. 'No wretch is so hardened as not to love even 
the beast that has carried him faithfully and nobly 
through imminent perils, or the dog which has watched 
and defended him. Much less could a commander 
like ISTapoleon look on the bloody ranks, stiff in death, 
that had stood like walls of iron around him the day be- 
fore, without a heart full of grief. His brave Guard 
too, that carried him in its arms, and which would 
not see him taken while a single man remained alive 
to strike a blow for him, had left its dead everywhere. 
He had lost his defenders, those who cherished him 
in their hearts while living, and murmured his name 
in dying, and he felt like one robbed of his treasures 
that he had hoarded with so much care — of valiant 
hearts that beat but for him. It required a heart of 



GRIEF OF NAPOLEON. 73 

stone to look on those gallant men, mangled and torn, 
and heaped in thonsands over the blood-stained snow 
and not be profoundly moved. iN'apoleon was over- 
come by it. The excitement of the battle was over, 
the victory won, and the feelings of onr common na- 
ture tiiumphed over the stern will of the chieftain and 
the pride of the conqueror. He could not conceal 
his emotion, it exhibited itself even in his bulletin. 

The white uniform had . been introduced into many 
of the regiments, but the contrast it presented to the 
blood stains of those who wore it, so shocked him 
that he immediately ordered it to be lain aside by 
the survivors, and blue to be used instead, cost what it 
might. He rode over the field to look after the 
wounded, and sent out all his domestics to relieve 
them, while the chasseurs of the Guard took their 
horses and helped bring them into camp. 

The rest of the winter and spring passed in quiet- 
ness, but in the beginning of June hostilities recom- 
menced, and ITapoleon started in pursuit of the ene- 
my. At the bloody battles of Heilsberg, the Young 
Guard astonished the army by its intrepidity and des- 
perate courage. The battle of Friedland followed, 
and the allied armies were rolled into the Alle. E'a- 
poleon spared his Guard in this battle and at night 
bivouacked on the field amid its squares. The sol- 
diers were angry that they had not been allowed to 
take part in the victory, and one of its intrepid lead- 



74 THE OLD GUAED. 

ers said, " the Guard was treated like beasts in "being 
compelled to remain with their arms crossed all day." 

If i^apoleon had shown himself a great general in 
this campaign, he exhibited no less the skillful diplo- 
matist in bringing about a peace. He first met 
Alexander on a raft moored in the middle of the 
I^iemen, while the opposing banks were lined wdth 
the hostile armies, which no sooner saw the two em-' 
perors embrace, than they rent the air with shouts. 
In a few days Alexander was established in ISTapo- 
leon's household and ate at his table. The poor king 
of Frussia was neglected and humbled. The two 
monarchs rode together and sat hour after hour in 
private tete-a-tete, until Alexander became completely 
fascinated. He reviewed the Old Guard with l^apo- 
leon, and was struck with their martial bearing and 
perfect discipline, and lavished on them high enco- 
niums. The Guard in return shouted, " Vive Alex- 
ander, Yive JSTapoleony 

Days passed away in this social intercourse and each 
succeeding one found the Russian monarch more and 
more captivated. On returning from these interviews 
he would exclaim, " What a great man, what a genius, 
what extensive views, what a captain, what a statesman I 
Had I but known him sooney how many faults he might 
have spared me, what great things we might have 
accomplished together." Alexander was ambitious, 
and IS^apoleon knew it. He therefore opened to him 



NAPOLEON AND ALEXANDER. 75 

plans of empire, pointed where new realn.is and gloiy 
could be won, and sketched plans so vast and yet so 
feasible, that the young emperor seemed to have 
opened his eyes on a new world. J^apoleon convinced 
him that alliance with England and Austria was ruin- 
ous, while should they two combine, they could dic- 
tate terms to half the world. The clear and masterly 
manner in which he sketched the perfidious policy 
of his- foes, the generous offers he made to him a con- 
quered enemy, and the vast sphere he pointed out to 
the young aspirant after glory soon brought about the 
end he was after. A treaty was made with Prussia 
wdiich stripped that unfortunate monarch of a large 
part of his kingdom. Another treaty was concluded 
with Russia. Lastly, a secret treaty or alliance offen- 
sive and defensive, not to be published till both con- 
sented to it, was signed, by which the two monarchs 
were to make common cause, by sea and land, and 
to declare war against England if she would not sub- 
scribe to the conditions of the two open treaties. This 
was the famous peace of Tilsit. 

In 1801 the Guard counted 15,361 men. 

On the conquest of Spain, in 1808, the Imperial 
Guard was rarely called into action. It however per 
formed some extraordinary marches. In a rash attack 
by Lefebvre Desmouettes with the chasseurs of the 
Guard, some sixty of the latter were taken prisoners, 
which annoyed Napoleon much. They were his favor 



76 THE OLD GUARt). 

ite troops, and he could not bear to have them in 
the hands of the enemy. He always wore their uni- 
form in battle, and at St. Helena, when about to die, 
he put it on, and was laid in state in it after his death. 
While prosecuting his march from Benavente, 
pressing eagerly after the English, a com-ier arrived 
from Paris bringing news of the union of Austria to 
the European confederacy against him, and the mus- 
tering of her armies. On receiving the coiirier's 
package, he ordered a bivouac fire to be kindled, and 
sittino- down, was soon lost in thought, while the snow 
fell thick and fast about him. His x)lans were in- 
stantly taken. On the spot he wrote an order for the 
raising of 80,000 conscripts in France. He then pro- 
ceeded thoughtfully to Astorga, where he remained two 
days, writing despatches. Every hour was occupied, his 
secretaries were put on one of those strains he in great 
emergencies demanded. Momentous affairs claimed 
his attention. His armies in Spain, France, and all 
Europe, lay like a map in his mighty mind, and he 
s^rasped the whole. To the different divisions of his 
army in Spain he sent despatches to guide their 
conduct, he sketched the course to be followed in 
pursuing the English, issued directions for regulating 
the internal affairs of the kingdom, and organized 
his plan for the overthrow of the coalition against 
him. He stopped five days longer at Yalladolid, em- 
ployed in writing despatches to every part of Europe. 



A WILD EIDE. YT 

In these five days he accomplished the work of a 
year, and having finished all, he mounted his horse 
and posted like a flash of lightning for Paris. In 
the first five hours he rode the astonishing distance of 
eighty five miles^ or seventeen miles an hour. He then 
took carriage while the Imperial Guard marched 
swiftly towards Germany to meet the army he was to 
concentrate there. This wild gallop of eighty-five 
miles was long remembered by the inhabitants of the 
towns thron2:h which the smokins^ cavalcade of the 
emperor passed. Relays of horses had been provided 
along the road, and no sooner did he arrive at one 
post than he flung himself on a fresh horse, and sulk- 
ing the spm'S in his flanks, dashed away in headlong 
speed. Few who saw that short figure surmounted 
with a plain cha23eau, sweep by on that day, ever for- 
got it. His pale face was calm as marble, but his lips 
were compressed and his brow knit like iron, while 
his flashing eye as he leaned forward^ still jerking 
impatiently at the bridle as if to accelerate his speed, 
seemed to devour tlie distance. IToone spoke, but the 
whole suite strained forward in the breathless race. 
The gallant chasseurs never had had so long and 
wild a ride before. 

It is not probable that Kapoleon kept up this loco- 
motive speed for eighty-five miles in order to gain 
two or three hours of time. ]^o battle was pend-, 
ing which an hom-'s delay might lose ; and whether 



78 THE OLD GUARD. 

he reached Paris at five o'clock or eight, could 
make no diiference in his plans. The truth is, 
it was the only outlet he had to his stormy feelings. 
While occupied with his army in Spain, he had been 
suddenly told that a fearful coalition was arming 
against him in the north of Europe. Colossus as he 
was, he could not but be painfully excited at the mag- 
nitude of the dangers that threatened him. He saw 
the motive which prompted this sudden blow and felt 
that it might prove decisive. He could not take his 
veteran troops on which he relied, from Spain, and he 
must raise a new army. The seven days he spent in 
writing despatches, after the arrival of the courier 
from Paris, were seven days of such mental labor as 
ordinary men never dream of. In that time he per- 
formed the work of a year to most men. The vast 
field over which his mind labored, the complicated 
and vital affairs that claimed his attention, the thou- 
sand objects, each of which was sufficient to task the 
strongest mind, taken up and disposed of in these few 
days, and the plan of a great campaign marked out 
for himself, caused a mental strain that brought his 
physical system, firm andiron-like as it was, into such 
a state of nervous excitement, that this fierce ride 
relieved him. Physical exhaustion was medicine to 
him, for it took the fire from his brain. 



CHAPTEE Y. 

THE YOUNG GUARD. 

Orgranization of the Young Guard — Campaign of 1809 — Extraordinary exertions of 
Napoleon — His rapid successes — Bombarding of Yienna, and first courtship of 
Maria Louisa— Disgi-aee of a surgeon — The Old Guard at Aspern— Its last charge 
— Incident showing how Napoleon punished the least neglect of his Guard — The 
Guard at Wagi-am — Sublime spectacle — Its artillery heads Macdonald's charge — 
Difficulty of appreciating the conduct of the Guard. 

Austria, as we have seen, with a perfidy that be- 
longs to her national character, no sooner found E'a- 
poleon involved in the Spanish war, and the elite of 
his army there, than she resolved to violate her sacred 
treaty and drive the French troops that still remained 
in Germany, over the Rhine. The com-t thought to 
take its hated foe unawares, and so it had, foro-ettins" 
the celerity of his movements and the rapid develop- 
ment of his plans. 

'No sooner had he arrived in Paris, than he des- 
patched Berthier to Germany to take charge of and 
concentrate his troops that were scattered from the 
Alps to the Baltic. In the meantime he organized 
eight new regiments to augment the infantry of his 
guard, two of tirailleurs grenadiers, two of tirailleurs 



80 THE OLD GUARD. 

cliasseiirs, and two of conscript chasseurs, in all 6000 
men. 

These were called the Yonng Guard, although in- 
corporated with the Old. Together they formed an 
imposing body of troops. On almost every breast of 
the Old Guard glittered the star of the Legion of 
Honor, won by bravery on the field of battle. 

Every thing being ready the troops were sent by 
forced marches to the Ehine. On the 12th of April, 
ISTapoleon set out from St. Cloud, and in six days ar- 
rived at head-quarters. It was high time he had come, 
for Berthier had done nothing but commit blunders, 
and but for the tardiness of the allies, the French army 
would have been driven across the Rhine before his 
arrival. It was scattered over forty leagues — in forty- 
eight hours it was concentrated in the space of ten 
leagues and ready to deliver its terrible blows. The 
continental armies opposed to ITapoleon have been 
much blamed for their slow and cautious advances, 
when the position of the French army was such that 
by celerity of movement they could have inflicted 
heavy disasters upon it. But military critics forget 
that Napoleon's tactics completely baffled the oldest 
generals of the continent. Nine tenths of the time their 
combinations were broken up before the battle took 
place. This wizard, by his rapid movements, auda- 
cious advances, and bold and daring attacks, so con- 
fused them, that they never knew when he was strong 



ATTACK ON QUEUES. 81 

or weak. They were afraid to compromise their 
forces by any bold push, for whenever they did, 
he came thundering on their flanks. ISTo wonder 
they became careful, for if they attempted a surprise 
or skilful manoeuvre as at Austerlitz, they found it 
was just what their imperial foe desired. In fact, 
such was his eagle glance and far-reaching intellect, 
that it was impossible for the Austrians or Prussians 
to attempt a manoeuvre in his presence without getting 
his victorious squadrons on their flanks. They had 
so often suffered from these flank attacks, that the 
precautions they took to avoid them were frequently 
ludicrous, and crippled all their actions. 

The Emperor arrived on the night of the ITth — on 
the 19th the battle of Abensberg was fought which 
broke the enemy's centre — the 21st, he attacked the 
enemy at Landshut, and put him to flight. On the 
22d he was victorious at Echmuhl, and pushed the 
Austrians over the Danube, which they had to cross 
under the tremendous fire of the batteries of the Old 
Guard. 

On the 23d, Ratisbon was carried by assault and 
the enemy forced to make a rapid retreat. One hun- 
dred pieces of cannon, forty standards, fifty thousand 
prisoners, three thousand baggage wagons, were tlie 
extraordinary fruits of these ^vq days' labor. It re- 
quired, however, a constitution of iron to stand the 

strain he put on himself at this time. Riding six 
4.* 



82 THE OLD GrAED. 

days in succession to reach the army, he immediately 
set to Avork concentrating it, and preparing for battle. 
It is said that the letters to his officers during the 
next five days would have made a volume. He was 
on horseback or dictating letters eighteen hours out 
of every twenty-four during the whole time. He out- 
stripped his ow^n saddle horses sent on as relays, and 
broke down those of the king of Bavaria, his ally, and 
yet when his staff and assistants were completely 
knocked up, he would sit calmly down and dictate 
despatches half the night. He seemed every where 
during these five days, and his blows fell with the 
rapidity and power of thunderbolts. 

After the taking of Ratisbon he issued a proclama- 
tion to his troops in which after recounting their vic- 
tories he promised in one month to bring them under 
the walls of Vienna. In just one month he was there, 
although to accomjolish it he had to wade through 
the terrible slaughter of Ebersberg. 

He was at Landshut the 26th of April, where he 
found the Old Guard which had just arrived from 
Spain. In the beginning of January it was at Astor- 
ga at the foot of the Gallician mountains — on the 
26th of April it was in the heart of the Austrian 
empire, having performed one of the most extraordi- 
nary marches on record. ITapoleon's eye flashed with 
delight w^hen he saw once more his favorite corps of 
old veterans, twenty thousand strong, fresh from the 



THE COLUMIT OF GRANITE. 83 

battle-fields of Spain, defile before him. The Guard 
was no less delighted to see its chieftain, and rent 
the air with shonts of '' Yive V Em^ereury 

Arriving before Yienna, he placed his batteries, 
and in ten hours threw ten thousand shells into the 
citj. The crash of falling dwellings, the bursting of 
shells, and the ascending flames streaking the hea- 
vens in every quarter, made the night of May 12th 
one long to be remembered by the Yiennese. 

At this time the young princess, Maria Louisa, the 
future bride of the Emperor, lay sick in the imperial 
palace, and unable to be rem.oved. This being com- 
municated to I^apoleon, he ordered the direction of 
the batteries to be changed ; and thus amid general 
devastation and death, she remained unharmed. This 
was the first introduction of himself to the princess, 
and it must be confessed it was wild and stern enough. 
" It was by the thunders of artillery and the flaming 
light of bombs across the sky, that his first addresses 
were made, the first accents of tenderness were from 
the deep booming of mortars which but for his inter- 
position would have consigned her father's palace to 
destruction." 

Yienna fell, and l^apoleon with a part of his Guard 
took up his quarters at Schcenbrun. 

While here an incident occurred which showed 
with what severity the least license on the part of his 
Old Guard was visited. One of its chief surgeons 



84 THE OLD GUARD. 

was lodged in the suburbs of the city, at the house 
of an aged canoness, and near relative of Prince 
Lichtenstein. 

One day having taken too much wine, he wrote 
her an extravagant and impertinent letter in which 
he introduced the name of Lefebvre in a disgraceful 
manner. She immediately threw herself on the pro- 
tection of General Andreossy, whom E'apoleon had 
made governor of the city, and to whom she sent the 
letter she had received. The governor forwarded 
both her letter and the surgeon's to the emperor. 
The latter im.mediately sent an order for the surgeon 
to appear on parade the following morning. The 
next morning as ISTapoleon descended rapidly the 
steps of the palace his countenance betokened an 
explosion at hand, and without speaking to any one, 
he advanced towards the ranks holding the letters in 

his hand, and called out, " Let M advance." 

The surgeon approached, when the emperor extend- 
ing the letter towards him said, " Did you write this 
infamous letter ?" 

" Pardon, sire," cried the overwhelmed surgeon, " I 
was drunk at the time, and did not know what I did." 

" Miserable man, to outrage one of my brave lieu- 
tenants and at the same time a canoness worthy of 
respect, and sufficiently bowed down with the mise- 
lies of war. I do not admit your excuse. I degrade 
you from the Legion of Honor, you are unworthy to 



napoizeon's severity. 85 

bear that venerated symbol. General iJorsenne," 
s-aid he, addressing the chief of the corps, " see that 
this order is executed. Insult an aged woman ! I 
respect an aged woman as if she were my mother." 

The 230or surgeon was a peaceable man, upright in 
his conduct when sober, and esteemed in the Guard 
as much for his kindness as for his talents. They in- 
terceded for him, but ]S"apoleon refused to grant their 
petition, nor did he yield until a paper signed by all 
the generals of the Guard, asking his pardon, was 
presented. Excesses are always committed by a vic- 
torious army, but the inhabitants of a city conquered 
by the French never complained of the conduct of 
the Old Guard. At home and abroad they were the 
friends of the citizen and exhibited an uprightness 
of character rarely found in any body of troops. 

Leaving Yienna, E'apoleon crossed the Danube at 
Lobau, and concentrated the whole Austrian army 
on the opposite side. The sudden rise of the river 
after part of the army had crossed by which the 
bridges were sw^ept away leaving him with only a 
portion of his troops and artillery, the bloody battle 
of Aspern, the failure of ammunition, the defeat of 
the French, and the death of Lannes are well known. 
Napoleon was compelled to use his Guard severely 
on both of these da,y3 to ciieck the victorious advance 
of the enemy. Bessieres closed the first day's battle 
with one of those splendid charges of the cavalry of 



86 THE OLD GFAED. 

tho Guard on the Austrians' centre. Eicling up to 
the flaming batteries, he forced them back into the 
squares of the infantry. The reserve cavalry of the 
Austrians were sent against them, but were swept 
from their path like chaff, and with clattering armor and 
deafening shouts, the terrible squadrons threw them- 
selves on the solid Hungarian squares, and rode round 
and round them in search of an opening through 
which they could dash, till nearly half their number 
was stretched on the plain, and they were compelled to 
retire. 

The next day after various successes on either 
side, the battle at length turned decidedly in favor of 
the Austrians. Night was approaching, and as a last 
resort, Napoleon ordered Lannes to pierce the Aus- 
trian centre. His terrible columns had well nigh 
succeeded, when the ammunition gave way. Stopped 
in his victorious advance, he at length was compelled 
to retrace his steps and the whole army was ordered 
to fall back towards the island of Lobau. Seeing 
the retrograde movement the Archduke John pushed 
his attack with greater vigor and under the tremen- 
dous fire of his eighty guns the French soon began 
to show signs of disorder. It was all important at 
this crisis that the village of Essling should still be 
held, for if taken by the enemy Napoleon saw that 
his case would be desperate. The Archduke John 
also perceived the vital importance of this post, for 



CHARGE AT ASPEKN. 8Y 

it would eifectuallv cut oS the retreat of tlie French 
to the river ; and sent a tremendous force against it 
which drove out its gallant defenders from every por- 
tion but the great granary. >Tapoleon calm and 
unmoved, resolved at once to retake it, cost vv^hat it 
might, and for that purpose immediately despatched 
a portion of the Old Guard — his never failing hope 
when everything else gave way. The drums beat a 
hurried charge, and the dark column, in double quick 
time, moved over the interval, and with fixed bayo- 
nets and firm front entered the village. No shouts 
or clatter of small arms heralded their approach 
or marked their terrible course. With the unw^a- 
vering strength of the inrolling tide of the sea, they 
swept forward, crushing every obstacle in their pas- 
sage. Through the devouring fire, over the batteries, 
they stormed on, and pushing steadily against the 
dark and overwhelming masses that opposed their 
progress, they rolled the two Austrian columns in 
affright and dismay before them. They knew the 
mission they were to fulfil, and ten times their num- 
ber could not have resisted their heavy onset. J^c 
sudden alarms, no thoughts of retreat, no anxietj 
weakened their high purpose. The crash of cannon 
balls in their midst, the headlong charge of cavalry, 
could not disturb their firm set ranks. They moved 
resistlessly forward till the enemy w^as di'iven out of 
the village, and then they established themselves in 



88 THE OLD GUARD. 

the granary, from wliicli the most deteiTnined efforts 
were made to dislodge them. The Hungarian grena- 
diers, that had stood so firm before the onset of 
Lannes' columns, were sent against them, but were 
hurled back in confusion. Again did they return 
with reinforcements, and pressed up to the very foot 
of the w^alls and again fled before the murderous fire 
that met them. Fwe times did they return with des- 
perate courage to the assault, only to meet the same 
fate. The upper part of the building took fire in the 
tumult, but still " amid the roar of burning timbers" 
and incessant rattle of musketry the Old Guard 
fouo-ht on. The Austrian sieneral seeinsr that nothins^ 
but the utter annihilation of those iron men could 
give him possession of the place, called off his troops. 

It was on such occasions as this, that the Old Guard 
showed its strength. Tried in a hundred battles, it 
had never betrayed the confidence of its great leader, 
and he knew when he sent them on that dreadful 
errand that they w^ould fulfil it 

The Guard suffered heavily in these two conflicts, 
and while the army was shut up in the island of Lo- 
ban, the emperor took great care of it. When he 
broke up his quarters at Schcenbrun and removed to 
the island, his first visit was to them in their bivouacs 
where he found them at their repast. " Well, my 
friends," said he to a group before which he had 
stopped, " how do you find the wune ?" 



THE GUARD AT TVAGEAM. 89 

" It will not make us tipsy," replied an old grena- 
dier, and pointing to the Danube, added, " behold our 
wine cellar." 

I:^apoleon, who had ordered the distribution of a 
bottle of wine to each soldier of the Guard, was sur- 
prised to find that his commands had not been obeyed, 
and sending for Berthier, made him inquire into it. 
It being ascertained that those employed to furnish 
the wine had sold it for their own profit, they were 
immediately arrested, tried by a military commission, 
condemned, and executed. The punishment was 
sudden and severe upon any one who dared to trifle 
with his Old Guard. They might as well defraud or 
injure him. 

THE GUAED AT WAGEAM. 

At the opening of this great battle on the second 
day, the Old Guard, with the reserve cavalry, were 
stationed in the rear of the centre. FlusH%d by the 
successes of the day before, the Archduke had re- 
sumed the offensive, and descending the plateau, 
poured an enormous force on ISTapoleon's right. The 
latter stood and listened awhile to the heavy cannon- 
ading, but as the rapidly advancing roar of the ene- 
my's artillery revealed that his right wing was forced 
back, he put spurs to his horse, and swiftly crossing 
the field with the Old Guard, was soon at the me- 
naced point. The artillery, under the immortal 



90 THE OLD GITAKD. 

Dronot, opened like a volcano on tlie advancing col- 
nmns, smiting them in flank so terribly tliat they were 
forced to retreat. The cuirassiers then charged, car- 
rying disorder and destruction into their ranks. 

But while this was passing, a more imminent peril 
had overtaken the centre and left. Against both the 
Austrians were successful. The lion-hearted Massena, 
who commanded the left, was overturned in his car- 
riage by his own panic-stricken troops. Unable to 
mount on horseback, filled with rage at the discomfiture 
of his men, he ordered the dragoons about his person 
to charge his flying soldiers as if they were enemies. 
But even this did not avail, and had not Kapoleon's 
eagle eye discovered the condition of his favorite 
general, he would soon have been a prisoner in the 
hands of the enemy. Then passed one of those 
scenes that make us for awhile forget the carnage 
of a gre^ battle field. From the extreme right, 
at first l^P a slowly ascending thunder-cloud, and 
then like a bolt from heaven, came I^apoleon and 
his guard to the rescue. Ordering Davoust to attack 
JSTeusiedel, and the foot soldiers of the Guard to 
traverse the entire field at the '•'-jpas de charge^^ he 
took with him the squadrons of the steel-clad cuiras- 
siers and the artillery of the Guard, and striking into 
a fierce gallop crossed the field in sight of both armies. 
That dread artillery, with Drouot in the midst, and 
those dark squadrons fringed with glittering steel, 



ITS AETILLEKY AT WAGEAM. 91 

thundered after their great leader. The earth groaned 
and trembled as they passed, and even the combat- 
ants paused a moment as that apparition swept with 
a deep dull roar along. The French army gave a 
shout as they watched its headlong course. Soon 
after came the bear-skin caps of the foot grenadiers 
going almost on a run, though perfect in their forma- 
tion as on parade. 

Order was restored, and the shattered columns 
under the impenetrable wall which the Old Guard 
presented, rallied and executed the commands of Na- 
poleon with the most perfect regularity, though rid- 
dled by the cross fire of the Austrian artilleiy. It 
was on this occasion that ITapoleon on his white 
Persian charger rode backwards and forwards before 
his shrinking lines, to keep them steady while his other 
manoeuvres could be executed. For a whole hour 
he and his indomitable Guard stood the rock of that 
battle-field. And when the crisis had Wome and 
Macdonald was directed to make that last awful 
charge on the Austrian centre, he took with him eight 
battalions of the Young Guard, while on either fiank 
hovered the light horse, and at the head of his dread 
column advanced a hundred pieces of cannon of the 
Old Guard commanded by Drouot. Behind him, 
as a reserve, was the emperor surrounded by the cav- 
alry and infantry of the Old Guard. Thus, with the 
Young Guard around him, and ITapoleon and the 



92 THE OLD GUAED. 

Old Guard behind him, Dronot and his deadly artil- 
lery in front, JVI§.cdonald entered wich a bold step 
the volcano before him. The particulars of that 
charge I have given in another place. Napoleon's 
throne and crown went w^ith it. To sustain it Bes- 
sieres charged with the cavalry of the Old Guard and 
was hurled from his horse by a cannon shot which 
checked the enthusiasm of his troops and rendered 
the onset weak and powerless. Eut the day was won, 
thanks to the unconquerable Guard. In his bulletin 
iN'apoleon said, " The artillery of the Guard has 
covered itself w^ith glory. ^ -^ ^ Our intrepid can- 
noneers have shown all the power of their terrible 
arm. The mounted chasseurs of the Guard have 
charged three squares of infantry and broken them 
in pieces. The Polish Lancers charged a regiment 
of Austrian lancers and took prisoner its commander, 
Prince D'Auesperg, and captured twelve j)ieces of 
cannon.'m 

The truth is, it is difficult to give a proper idea of 
the conduct of the Old Guard. To the cursory reader 
it seems strange that it acquired such a reputation. 
This arises from the fact that it always acted as a 
reserve, and had nothing to do with the main move- 
ments of the army, which it is the duty of the histo- 
rian to describe. To stem the torrent of defeat, to 
give impulse to a great movement, to strengthen an 
exhausted column, and by beir ^ here and there and 



ITS CHAEACTEE. 93 

in ererj place where lielp was needed, and with un- 
broken front in the midst of disorder and calm re- 
solute hearts in the midst of fear and panic, that it 
gained its renown. The discomfited soldier gazed in 
astonishment on the cool courage which triumphed 
where he had failed, and broken ranks viewed with 
wonder the steady march on batteries which had 
shattered them to fragments. Called in only when 
the other troops gave way, and manoeuvring and 
charging with the same determined bravery in the 
midst of a panic as in the flush of victory, they were 

• 

looked upon as superior to the ordinary emotions and 
fears of mortals. And nothing does show the sub- 
lime elevation of this invincible body of men more 
than their freedom from the contagion of example, 
being always sufficient in themselves, and steadiest 
and bravest in the moment of greatest disaster and 
fear. It was this peculiarity that gave the Guard 
influence over the soldiers and made its presence like 
the shout of victory. The whole- army came to re- 
gard it as exempt from ordinary duty in a battle-field, 
too great to be employed in ordinary fighting, and to 
be called upon only when the bravest troops gave 
way. Its charge was looked upon as an unalter- 
able decree against the enemy written in the book of 
fate. Its stern and measured tread never faltered, 
against its adamantine sides cavalry thundered in 
vain, while before its levelled bayonets the firmest 



94 THE OLD GUARD. 

array went down. ^tTapoleon knew its power and in- 
creased its strength to the greatest limit it could bear. 
Any nation that could furnish two hundred thousand 
men able to fulfil the severe conditions annexed to ad- 
mission in the Old Guard, might conquer the world. 

The battle of Wagram settled the fate of Austria, 
and not long after the " peace of Yienna" was con- 
cluded. The war in the Tyrol and Spain was carried 
on, but the majority of the Old Guard took no part 
in either. They were sent back to Paris to recruit. 

In 1809, the Guard was composed of 31,203 men. 



CIIAPTEK YI. 

1810. 

Marriage of Napoleon to Marie Louise — Augmentation of the Old Guard — Grand 
review of the Old Guard at Paris — Touching incident — Tiie hrave drummer and 
General Gros — Napoleon's treatment of them — Secret of Napoleon's influence 
over his troops, was in the affection he inspired — His j^rodigious memory — Con- 
Tersation with the Russian Chamberlain. 

In 1810 the star of Bonaparte culminated. It was 
perhaps the most glorious year of his life. He had 
compelled peace from the continental powers, and the 
French empire had been extended on one side to the 
mouth of the Elbe, and on the other to the shores of the 
Tiber. Rome and Amsterdam were both cities of the 
Empire. Joseph Bonaparte was king of Spain, Je- 
rome of Westphalia, and Murat of ITaples. Napo- 
leon was king of Italy as well as Emperor of France, 
and was looked up to with awe by a hundred million 
men. Kings gazed with amazement and fear on 
this strange man, who made such playthings of their 
thrones, and dictated terms to them in their own pal- 



96 THE OLD GUAKD. 

aces, and whose victorious armies trod the streets of 
their capitals. 

This plebeian soldier had changed the contempt with 
which royal blood regarded him, into deadly fear; and 
he whom they deemed fit only for the assassin's knife, 
w^as now worthy of the haughtiest alliance, and the 
daughter of the Caesars J^ecame the wife of Napo- 
leon. 

It is stransfe how slio-ht an event will chans^e the 
features of the world. Napoleon first proposed to 
marry one of the royal family of Russia. The em- 
peror was delighted with the project, but the qneen- 
mother suggested difficulties, and demanded delay. 
This did not suit the impetuous nature of Bona- 
parte, and he immediately broke off negotiations with 
Russia and offered himself to the honse of Austria, 
and was accepted. This latter alliance, from which 
he hoped so much, proved of no benefit to him, ex- 
cept to facilitate his operations against Russia, which 
in the end proved his ruin. Austria regards fam- 
ily ties no more than treaties or honor. Treach- 
erous and base, no reliance can be placed on her 
fidelity to any thing but her self interest. 

Russia on the other hand, had the two dynasties 
been united, would have proved a close ally to France. 
That fearful invasion of her territories would have 
been prevented, and the two emperors could have 



GRAND REVIEW. 97 

divided Europe between them, if they chose, and 
prostrated England in the dust. 

The last war with Austria had impressed !N"apoleon 
still more deeply with the value of the Old Guard, 
and he took advantage of the first interval of peace 
to augment its strength. Holland had fallen into his 
hands, and he incorporated into his Guard the grena- 
diers of the Holland Guard. He created also musi- 
cal corps for the eight regiments of the Young 
Guard already in existence, and doubled the officers 
of health attached to the chief hospital. In two 
years he had more than doubled its number. 

REVIEW OF THE IMPERIAL GUARD. 

l^apoleon frequently entertained the Parisians with 
a grand review of his troops, especially of his Guard. 
This always took place on the Sabbath, to give all an 
opportunity of witnessing it, just as that day has ever 
been made a sort of fete day by the French. On the 3d 
of June, of this year, he held one of these grand reviews 
in presence of the dignitaries of the empire, and am- 
bassadors from almost every court of Europe. A 
chamberlain of the emperor of Russia, the count of 
Trawinsoff, was then at the French court, ostensibly 
to enroll a troupe of comedians for the imperial thea- 
tre of St. Petersbui'g. He was accredited simply as 
a charge, but ISTapoleon knew perfectly well that 

graver matters than a troupe of comedians were en 
5 



98 THE OLD GUAED. 

trusted to him. On the morning of the review of 
his Guard, he asked him to be present and give 
his opinion of it. The count having no desire to see 
the redoubtable corps which at Austerlitz and Eylau 
had conquered the finest troops of his master, de- 
clined on the ground that he had no horse. The em- 
peror replied he would give him one of his own, and 
the count was compelled to accept the invitation. 

As the clock struck twelve, there arose from the 
different corps of the Guard which some time before 
had taken position in the court of the Tuileries, a 
loud murmur of expectation succeeded by a profound 
silence. The rattling of a scabbard and the clicking 
of spurs as the booted heel came down upon the mar- 
ble fl.oor of the peristyle was heard, and the next mo- 
ment a little man in a green uniform, the modest 
epaulettes of a colonel on his shoulders, a plain cha- 
peau on his head, the signs of the Legion of Honor, 
and the crown of iron, the only ornaments on his 
breast, stepped forth. He paused and made a ges- 
ture with his hand, and in a few seconds a group of 
officers in splendid uniforms, with their hats in their 
hands, surrounded him. The drums then beat the 
salute, a single command like an echo rolled from offi- 
cer to officer the whole length of the line, and with a 
clattering sound, the entire army as if it had been one 
man, presented arms — the colors in one vast cloud 
stooped towards that little man in green uniform, and 



napoleon's kindness. 99 

then the cry of " Vive VEm'peTeuT^^ rolled like thun- 
der to the heavens. 

JSTapoleon then mounted his favorite horse Marengo^ 
whose head was always in motion as if impatient like 
his master to be off on a gallop, and rode along the 
lines. Just as he was about to pass into the ranks, a 
young man seventeen or eighteen years of age, rushed 
put of the multitude and ran towards him, shaking a 
paper which he held in his hand above his head. 
Paying no heed to the repeated order of " back, 
back," he was pushing on, when a grenadier seized 
him by the collar and forced him towards the specta- 
tors. But he still shook his paper and cried out over 
the noise of the multitude, " Sire, Sire," to the empe- 
ror. The latter said coldly, " Let the young man ap- 
proach." The grenadier immediately released him, 
and presenting arms stood like a statue. The young 
man sprang forward and fell at the feet of Marengo. 
" What do you want?" said ISTapoleon, as he stooped 
in his saddle to take the paper. The poor petitioner 
said nothing, but looked beseechingly at the emperor, 
while the tears rolled down his cheeks. J^apoleon 
tore off the envelope and casting his eye over the pe- 
tition, said to the young man, '' Arise, to none but 
God should you kneel ; from what I see, your mother 
has never left Paris." There was no reply and cast- 
ing his eye again on the paper, he said in a low voice, 
" I have been deceived respecting this woman who I 



100 THE OLD GUAED. 

was told had emigrated and then mixed herself up in 
political intrigues. There was nothing in it." Then 
raising his voice, he added, "My young friend, tell 
your mother that from this moment she has a pension 
of twelve hundred francs from my own purse." Over- 
whelmed by this sudden elevation from the depths of 
despair, the poor youth stood a moment, while the 
hue of death crept over his features, his eyes closed 
and sinking on his knees he pitched forward, his 
head striking heavily against the legs of Marengo as 
he fell. The frighted steed reared bolt upright and 
but for an aid-de-camp, who seized him by the bridle, 
would doubtless have flung his imperial rider. A cry 
of terror rose from the multitude, but the next mo- 
ment as they saw him quietly dismount and advance 
towards the young man, there went up a shout that 
shook the field. 

An officer immediately called aloud for a surgeon. 
"Let him alone, sir," said iN'apoleon quietly, "a sur- 
geon is useless, joy is never fatal at this age. He 
needs only a little cool water." One of the specta- 
tors ran and fetched some in his hat from a neighbor- 
ing fountain. Kapoleon threw a few drops on the 
poor fellow's face when he opened his eyes. Seeing 
the emperor stooping over him, he seized one of his 
hands and kissed it in a transport of enthusiasm. 
" Was not I right ?" said ITapoleon pleasantly. " To 
horse, gentlemen." At evening that youth sent an- 



kapoleon's love for the brave. 101 

other petition, that he migJit fight till death for the 
emperor. He was enrolled in the foot chasseurs of 
the Guard. 

This to an ordinary general would be an unimpor- 
tant affair, jet many a victory of ISTapoleon grew out 
of just such incidents. This young chasseur would 
be worth a whole company in a desperate charge. 
With the eye of his benefactor on him, nothing but 
death could arrest his progress, and his example in 
battle would make heroes of all around him. 

At the time this was transpiring, another incident 
of a comic character, yet equally illustrative of ISTa- 
poleon's love for the brave, and of his tact in winning 
their unbounded devotion, occurred in another part 
of the field. Gros, one of the generals of the chas- 
seurs of the Old Guard, was a tall, powerful man, 
with a voice like a trumpet. He was illiterate, but 
high-minded, generous to a fault, and the very soul 
of bravery. !N"apoleon once said of him, " Gros lives 
in the smoke of cannon like a fish in water. It is his 
element." The mode of his elevation to the rank he 
held, was a farce in itself. One morning while he 
was waiting in one of the little saloons of St. Cloud 
to receive the orders of the Emperor, who had sent 
for him, he became impatient at the long delay and 
going up to a mirror, began to contemplate himself. 
He pulled up his collar, adjusted his epaulettes, exam- 
ined his uniform, and casting his eyes from his head 



102 THE OLD GUAED. 

to Lis feet, could not repress his admiration of the 
tout ensemble of his person and thinking aloud, said, 
" Ah my cadet, there are few of these dandy officers 
made np like yon — what a misfortune you don't know 
a little mathematics which the emperor requires, you 
would then have been a general to-day." Napoleon 
who had entered imperceived and overheard this queer 
soliloquy, suddenly slapped him on the shoulder 
exclaiming, " You are one." 

On the day of the review, Gros with his regiment 
was at one extremity of the line. A few days before 
there had been incorporated into it unbeknown to him 
an old friend named Castas^net. He was a drummer 
and in the review was placed in the front rank. 
Gros with great pomposity was slowly walking his 
horse along the line, scrutinizing the appearance and 
arms of each, when he was suddenly arrested by 
" Good heavens ! it is you, my general, look at me, I 
am that fool of a Castagnet with whom you have 
drunk more Schnick than there is broth in the kettle 
of the Invalids. How are you ? Don't you know me, 
my general ?" 

At the first words, Gros had recognised his old 
comrade, and jdelding to the sudden generous im- 
pulse, he leaped from his horse and embraced him, 
shaking his hand with a grasp that made every bone 
in it snap, exclaiming, " Yery well, very well, my old 
Castagnet, and you ?" 



A RECOGNITION. 103 

" Always r-r-r-rat-a-tat tatting, as you see." 

" Come to me to-morrow morning," said Gros as lie 
re-mounted Ids liorse, " you shall see that I always 
have something for my old friends." 

l^apoleon, who had just gone through the first files 
of the grenadiers, happened to cast his eye along the 
line at this moment and thought he saw' a soldier and 
general embracing each other. The spurs sank in 
the flanks of Marengo^ which sprang away like a 
flash of lightning, and the next moment stood before 
the astonished group. "What does this mean, Gen- 
eral Gros," exclaimed ]N'apoleon, with his brow knit 
in anger, " is this a theatrical exhibition ?" 

The general raised his chapeau, and pointing to 
the drummer, who stood immovable in his ranks, said 
in his usual frank blunt manner, " There is a solid sol- 
dier for you, one who never winks in presence of the 
enemy. Such as you see him, sire, he has beat his 
drum in Italy, Egypt, and through all Germany. His 
name is CastagDet. It was he who beat the charge 
before St. J^an d'Acre with one hand because the 
other had been shattered by a ball, at the commence- 
ment of that earthquake." 

As much as l^apoleon loved disci23line, he loved 
bravery better, and he sat with his eyes fixed on Cas- 
tagnet, w^hose heart went like the sticks of his own 
drum, while Gros w^as speaking; and as he finished 
said, " AU this is very well, but the time is ill chosen 



104 THE OLD GrAr.D. 

for such recognitions." Then turning to Castagnet, 
he said in that winning tone which so bewitched his 
soldiers, '* You are he then, mj brave fellow, who 
descended the third time into the fosse of St. Jean 
d'Acre ; I am glad to see jou again." With this he 
lifted his hand to his chapeau, slightly raising it from 
his head. 

These flattering words, and above all, the gesture 
of respect, completely upset the poor drummer. He 
expected punishment, and lo, the emperor had touched 
his chapeau to him. He turned white and red by 
turns, and turning and twisting his head about, said, 
in a half audible tone, " You flatter me, my empe- 
ror." 

" It was you," continued ^N'apoleon, " I have a good 
memory, who showed such presence of mind and 
admirable courage at the battle of Wertingnen, and 
saved the life of your captain." 

The brave fellow whose nerves were steady as iron 
in the deadly combat, was completely unmanned, and 
with his head cast down, said in a voice lower than 
before, " A small afiair, my emperor, always the same 
old cask." 

" Gros," added J^apoleon, " if your protege con- 
tinues to behave as well in future, he shall be ad- 
vanced. He is worthy of a better post," and nodding 
pleasantly to the drummer, said, '^ Au revoir, my 
brave fellow," and gave the spur to Marengo. 



THE BRAVE DRUMMER. 105 

Such was the means by which Kapoleon gained 
the hearts of his Guard. The beat of that brave fel- 
low's drum in the fosse of St. Jean d'Acre would not 
hurry men to the deadly charge more fiercely than 
that story told by the bivouac fire of the Old Guard 
at night. The whole regiment witnessed the strange 
scene, and there was not a man in it but felt a higher 
resolution. He would carry the remembrance of it 
into battle, it would nerve him to another effort when 
about to give way, and rally him to another charge 
at sight of his commander. Who would not per- 
form great deeds, when years after he was told of 
them by his emperor, in presence of the whole army ? 
The brave acts of even a poor drummer were trea- 
sured up in the heart of him for whom he shed his 
blood, and it recompensed him for all he had suffered. 
Ah, Bonaparte knew how to win the hearts of his sol- 
diers, and that alone would give him unconquerable 
troops. 

After having passed in review the squadrons of the 
Guard and the light cavalry, he returned to the court 
of the Tuileries, and placed himself in front of a 
small squadron of general oflScers, composed of his 
staff. At a gesture of his hand, an officer of ord- 
nance approached with his head uncovered, and bow- 
ing to ISTapoleon, parted on a gallop and riding rap- 
idly along the whole front of battle returned to his 
place. A moment after Napoleon urged Marengo, 
5* 



106 THE OLD GUARD. 

covered with foam, a few ste]3S in advance, and lift- 
ing his hand shook it above his head. From the ex- 
trenae end of the line the faint roll of drums was 
heard, gradually swelling, till it swept like thunder 
over the field. In an instant it ceased and the ra1> 
tling of musketry ran with the regularity of a wave, 
from one end of the vast line to the other. At length 
the impassible face of J^apoleon kindled with ex- 
citement ; and placing his right hand upon his thigh, 
he half turned in his saddle, and gave the Russian 
ambassador, who was absorbed in the magnificent 
tableau, a glance that could not be mistaken. He 
had caught the undulations of the eagles of his Guard 
as it put itself in motion, and from the farthest ex- 
tremity, began to advance. The foot grenadiers and 
chasseurs, who had swept the fields of Austerlitz, Jena, 
Eylau, and Wagram, first approached. As they began 
to defile, JSTapoleon made a sign to the Russian cham- 
berlain to take his place by his side. As the regiments 
approached, he said, pointing to one, " That is my 
45th, they are my brave children of Paris. If ever car- 
tridges are burned between my brother, the emperor of 
Russia, and me, I will show the efficiency of my 45th. 
It was this regiment that precipitated itself upon the 
Russian batteries at Austerlitz. That little corporal 
you see running there with his fusil upon his shoulder, 
finding himself about to be taken by an officer of the 
cannoneers of Doctorow, sprang up behind him, stran- 



napoleon's memokt. 107 

gled liim with Lis hands, and made his escape." The 
chamberlain expressing his admiration of the daring 
deed, JN'apoleon added, " There is not a regiment in 
mj Guard that cannot cite a hundred acts far more 
admirable. Do you see that lieutenant covered with 
dust ? It is Eobaglia, my cousin, who lives but for me." 
He thus went on particularizing one after another, 
going back even to his first campaigns. 

The cavalry then defiled in the same wonderful 
order, though enveloped in a cloud of dust. The ter- 
rible grenadiers, whose heavy shocks few squares 
could withstand, passed along, followed by the chas- 
seurs wdth their green uniform and tall plumes waving 
like a field of grain in the wind. After them, the 
mamelukes, with their w^hite turbans surmounted with 
a cross of gold, then the dragoons of the Guard, with 
their light helmets flashing in the sun, commanded by 
Arigha, a cousin of Napoleon, then the Polish lancers 
in their gay and sparkling miiform, and last the artil- 
lery of the Guard, followed by the equipages of the 
train. Each regiment and squadron sent np their 
loud " Vive V Emyereur^'' as it passed, l^apoleon 
then dismounted and mixing with the chief ofiicers 
of the several corps, conversed a while familiarly with 
then, and returned to the Tuileries. 

The imposing pageant had passed. That army of 
thirty thousand warriors — veterans every one, had 
moved at the word of command, like a single man, and 



108 THE OLD GUARD. 

no one who saw their firm array and perfect discipline, 
and knew their history, could be astonished at their 
invincibility. When it was over, I^apoleon asked the 
Hussian chamberlain what had struck him most at 
the review. 

" The prodigious memory of your majesty," he re- 
plied, " and the ease with which you recalled, after 
so long a time, the deeds of arms and the names of so 
many soldiers." 

" Monsieur Count," replied the emperor, " it is the 
memory of the heart, it is that of the lover which re- 
calls his first attachments, it is never lost." 

I have thus gone into a detailed account of this 
single review, because such exhibitions formed a part 
of the history of the Old Guard, and incidents like 
these I have related lay at the foundation of the de- 
voted attachment it showed to N'apoleon. 

At the close of 1810 the Guard numbered 33,500 
men. 



CHAPTEE YII. 
1811. 

Increase of the Guard — Birth of the king of Rome — The excitement and joy of 
the Parisians at the recent creation of the pupils of the Guard — Their review in 
presence of the Old Guard — ^Napoleon's address to both —Anecdote of one of the 
pupils. The pupils in service to the young king of Rome. 

In March, 1811, the regiment of the Young Hol- 
landers, formed bj Louis Bonaparte, King of Holland, 
at the abdication of the latter, were called, as before 
stated, into France, and incorporated into the Young 
Guard. At first it was composed of only two batta- 
lions, but afterwards was increased to nine, and gave 
an addition to the Guard of nine thousand men. 

The birth of a son to iN'apoleon, filled the nation 
with joy, and removed from the statesman of France 
a load of anxiety. The French empire and N'apoleon 
were one. He had made it, and he alone could pre- 
serve its integrity, ^o other statesman nor leader 
in the army, even if elevated to his place, could sway 



110 THE OLD GUAED. 

his sceptre. Were lie dead, France must look into 
the gulf of another revolution, or submit to the dic- 
tation of tyrants. And yet this single man, on whose 
shoulders lay the interests of so vast an empire, lived 
on the battle-field, exposed to death on every side. 
Wise men trembled when they saw so mighty a 
structure resting on a single pedestal, and asked, 
what would become of France if the shot that pierced 
the breast of Turenne, or shattered Charles XIL, 
should pierce him. A son would confirm his dynasty, 
and the army would rally around his cradle, for the 
father's sake. It was from such views sprung the 
strong desire on the part of France, that E'apoleon 
should be divorced from Josephine and marry some 
one who could give him an heir. One can, therefore, 
easily imagine the intoxication of the French people 
when that heir was actually born. 

The confinement of the queen was known through- 
out Paris, and the whole population was on the tip- 
toe of expectation. At length the cannon of the 
Invalides thundered forth the joyful event that a child 
was bom. It was announced beforehand that if it 
were a princess, twenty-one guns should be fired — if 
a prince, a hundred. As the first heavy explosion 
rolled over the city, the vast population stood and 
listened. They counted to the twenty-first discharge, 
at which there was a pause. The excitement then 
became intense, and when at length the twenty-second 



BIETH OF THE KING OF EOME. Ill 

gun, double charged, pealed over the Seine, a wild 
shout of enthusiasm shook the capital to its centre, 
telling to all Europe how deep-seated was the affec- 
tion of the people for their Emperor, and how great 
their joy at the prospect of the continuation of h.'a 
dynasty. 

The birth of this young " king of Rome," as he was 
titled, was celebrated with extraordinary pomp. 

To give greater eclat to the event, and at the same 
time form the nucleus of a Guard which should be to 
his son what the Old Guard had been to him, he 
issued a decree, creating a regiment of two battalions 
composed of six companies each, under the name of 
pupils of the Guard, to be called " Guards of the 
King of Rome." The young Bonaparte was to be 
the commander when he became old enough to han- 
dle a sword. "Ko one could be admitted into this 
guard under ten, or over sixteen years of age. He 
also must be the son or nephew of a soldier who had 
died on the field of battle. He must be able to read 
and write, and bring proof that he had been vaccin- 
ated. Most of the officers were chosen from the mil- 
itary school of St. Cyr — and from the sub-lieutenants, 
up to the colonel commandant, they were nominated 
by the emperor himself, after being proposed by the 
minister of war. This corps of boys was organized 
at Yersailles, and very soon numbered four thousand. 
They were all orphans, and l!^apoleon said, " their 



112 THE OLD GUAED. 

fathers being dead, the army shall be their father." 
They had a. standard of their own, but no eagle ; for 
that was never given to a regiment unless earned on 
the field of battle. 

After they had been drilled awhile, the emperor 
ordered them to be brought to Paris from Yersailles, 
to figure in one of his grand reviews of the Old Guard. 
The latter were drawn up in line of battle, when to 
the surprise of every one, a new army in miniature 
debouched by the bridge royal, and advanced in good 
order in front of the troops. The martial air and erect 
figures of these boys of ten to sixteen years of 
age, astonished every one. There was a platoon of 
sappers, little fair-haired urchins, with bear-skin caps, 
whose beardless chins and lively faces contrasted 
ludicrously with the terrible air they tried to give 
themselves. The drum-major was five feet two inches 
high, and as he passed the Old Guard, he made his 
cane fly about his head with extraordinary rapidity, 
as much as to say, " beat that if you can." He was 
followed by the drummers, but without the larger bass 
drums, for there were none big enough to beat 
them. They played " la Favorite," a quick step com- 
posed expressly for them. Then came the chief offi- 
cers on horseback, followed oj the whole corps. As 
they marched along, they looked for all the world like 
the Old Guard seen through an inverted spy glass. 
They formed in front of the 1st regiment of grena- 



PUPILS OF THE GUARD. 113 

diers, and the old veterans at the sight of these baby 
soldiers laughed and chuckled in great delight. 

Soon, however, the beat of drums announced the 
arrival of the Emperor, who appeared on the field 
and rode straight to the pupils. They opened their 
ranks to receive him, and he dismounted, and, accom- 
]3anied by the little staff officers, began his inspection. 
All at once he stopped, and seizing a corporal by the 
ear, pulled him towards him, and, in a stern voice, 
asked his age. 

" Thirteen years old, my Emperor, the 30th of last 
March, the day of the birth of the King of Rome." 

" Why did you smile just now when I S23oke to 
your captain ?" 

" From pleasure in seeing you," replied the little 
blond. 

" And what, if on arriving at Yersailles, I should 
have you put in the hall of police, to teach you that 
an under officer never ought to smile in the ranks ?" 

" My Emperor, it would make me very happy, for 
it would show that you had thought of me." 

ITapoleon smiled at the naive reply, and passed on. 

After he had finished his inspection, he ordered 
the line of pupils to advance a few steps, then placing 
himself between them and his grenadiers, he said : 

" Soldiers of my Old Guard, behold your children ! 
Their fathers fell fighting by yom- sides, and you will 
take their places to them. They will find in you, at 



114. THE OLD GUARD. 

the same time, an example and a support. Be their 
tutors. Li imitating you, they will be brave ; in 
listening to your counsel, they will become the first 
soldiers of the world. I confide to them the Guard 
of my son. With them I will have no fear for him, 
as with you I am mthout fear for myself. I ask for 
them your friendship and protection." 

" Yive I'Empereur ! Yive le Koi de Rome !" rolled 
in deafening shouts through the ranks. 

ISTapoleon, with a gesture of his hand, checked their 
enthusiasm, and, turning to the pupils, said, in a sub- 
dued tone, " And you, my children, in attaching you 
to my Guard, I have given you a difficult duty to 
fulfill ; but I rely upon you, and I hope one day to 
hear it said — ' These children are worthy of their 
fathers.' " 

As he finished, the most frantic acclamations rent 
the air. 

He little thought, that in less than three years he 
would see those children crushing Russian grenadiers 
beneath their impetuous charge, and leaving their 
youthful forms on the soil of France in bravely 
endeavoring to hurl back the invaders of her soil. 

As the troops defiled before him, the pupils were 
at the head of the Old Guard, and throughout the 
parade marched in good order, like trained soldiers. 
As the grenadiers came opposite IsTapoleon, a child of 
ten years old quitted his comrades, and advancing 



YOUNG FRANCOIS. 



115 



timidly towards liim, presented, at a distance, liis 
little bonnet, on whicli was placed a petition. 

"Ah, ha!" said Napoleon, smiling, '-ambitious 
already. He has commenced early." Then turning 
to Lauriston, his aide, he bade him see what the child 
wanted. As the latter brought back the petition, he 
said : " Sire, it is an orphan." 

" An orphan !" interrupted the Emperor ; " then 1 
must see to it. Give me the paper." 

As he unrolled the petition, he saw it was ad- 
dressed to his infant child. It began : " To his Ma- 
jesty the King of Eome."— Sire : Pierre Muscadet, 
eleven campaigns old, exclusive proprietor of five 
wounds not mortal, and foot grenadier of the Old 
Guard to your honored father, who has decorated 
the petitioner with his own hands at Boulogne, 
wishes to let you know that he has a nephew with 
whom he knows not what to do, inasmuch as he 
wishes to become a soldier. He is of blond com- 
plexion ; has been vaccinated according to the rules. 
The bearer will undoubtedly make a good soldier. 
He knows how to read and write, and is aware of 
the respect due to his chiefs, and to the heir presump- 
tive to the great Napoleon. The petitioner, there- 
fore, prays that you will have the goodness to permit 
his nephew, Francois Muscadet, bearer of the pre- 
sent, to be incorporated as soon as possible into the 
corps of the pupils of the Guard, which is your own. 



116 THE OLD GFAED. 

I promise that he will never murmur in the service of 
your imperial person, royal and Roman." 

The old soldier made his sign at the bottom of the 
petition. 

In reading it, ISTapoleon smiled again and again. 
As he read the address, " To his Majesty the King of 
Eome," he shrugged his shoulders and said, " But this 
is not for me." 

Having made a sign for the boy to approach, he 
said, " Thou art called Francis, and art nephew of 
Pierre Muscadet, grenadier of my Guard ?" 

" Yes, my Emperor," he replied, timidly, rolling 
his bonnet in his hands. 

" Well, tell your uncle that he is a simpleton." 

" Yes, my Emperor," replied the little fellow, with 
his eyes cast down. 

^Napoleon smiled at his naivete, and continued, 
" JSTevertheless, his commission shall be punctually 
executed, for it would not be right to let you be the 
victim of your uncle's foolishness." Then turning 
to his aide-de-camp, he said, " Take the petitioner 
with his petition to my son." 

Lauriston introduced the little Francis into the 
chamber of his Majesty, then five months old. He 
was asleep, but just then waking up, began to cry 
vociferously. Lauriston thinking his commission ful- 
filled, returned, and found Napoleon occupied with 
the movements of the light artillery. 



PUPILS OF THE GUAED. 117 

" "Well," said he, " have joii done what I desired ?" 

"Yes, sire." 

" What response did his Majesty the King of Eome 
make ?" 

" Sire, his Majesty made no reply." 

Kapoleon smiled and said, " They say silence gives 
consent. I will see to it this evening." Then turn- 
ing to Francis, he bade him rejoin his comrades, and 
take care not to get imder the horses' feet. He 
watched him as he ran with all his might through the 
ranks of the last battalion of grenadiers, and when 
he lost sight of him he said, " Poor little fellow, I 
wager that he will be no fool ; but his uncle, though 
simple, is not less one of my braves, and I wish to 
gratify him." 

Afterwards when E"apoleon was disputing inch by 
inch the soil of France against an overwhelming 
army, this Francis led his troops to the charge with 
the sang-froid of a veteran, and equalled the Old 
Guard in a murderous action on the plains of Cham- 
pagne. Although wounded early in the battle, he 
refused to quit the field, but lay bleeding and shout- 
ing, " Vive V Emjpereur^'' till the Russians gave way. 
The cross of the Legion of Honor was his reward. 

Immediately after the review, the pupils of the 
Guard commenced their service around the young 
king of Rome. The ladies in waiting of the empress 
amused themselves much with these miniature sol- 



118 THE OLD GUARD. 

diers, teazing and consoling them by turns. Like the 
Old Guard, in its service to the Emperor, a portion 
only was on duty at a time, relieving the other every 
day. In the morning when the new detachment 
arrived, it found in its cartouch boxes, tops, toys, 
balls filled with bon bons and confectionery of every 
description. Such playthings did they make of these 
unfledged soldiers whom 'Nqj himself two years after 
was to lead with astonishment against the veterans of 
Europe. 

At the close of this year, 1811, the Guard numbered 
51,960 men. 



CHAPTEE V^III. 

1812. 

THE OLD G-TJAED IN ETJSSIA. 

Sublime spectacle of the army of invasion — Tlie Old Guard at Borodino — Gallant 
Charge and death of Caulincourt — Strange conduct of Napoleon — The Old 
Guard in the Kremlin — Anecdote illustrating its honesty— It saves the chest of 
the army at Kussia. 

The world never saw sucTi a spectacle, and proba- 
bly never will bebold one like it in the future, as 
Europe presented in the spring of 1812. The vast 
intellect of E'apoleon had not only triumphed over 
the surrounding sovereigns so long banded against 
him, but had compelled them to assist him in the 
accomplishment of his great plans, and Italy, Aus- 
tria, Eussia, Bavaria, Poland, Holland, and Sweden, 
sent up his war-cry. The flags that had so long 
advanced against each other in deadly combat, waved 
side by side in friendly greeting. Eegiments that 
had last seen each other as they met in mortal strife 



120 THE OLD GUASD. 

and fierce hate at Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena, and 
Wagram, now swore to move shoulder to shoulder in 
a common cause. The lion of the north was to be 
bearded in his den, and Napoleon with 500,000 men 
at his back, started for Moscow. The magnitude and 
grandeur of the expedition filled the world with 
amazement, and thousands of the wealthy and noble 
eagerly sought a place in it to partake of the glory 
that awaited it. From the Baltic to the Calabrian 
mountains, and from the Atlantic to the Vistula, the 
nations obeyed one imperious will and thronged at 
his command to one banner. The gathering of troops 
from every quarter to a common centre, the highways 
of France and Germany crowded for months with 
infantry, cavalry, and artillery, pouring in endless 
thousands forward, imparted to every beholder the 
feeling of invincible power. A half a million of 
men, eighty thousand cavalry, thirteen hundred can- 
non thundering heavily along, a hundred and eighty- 
seven thousand horses, twenty thousand chariots and 
wagons, these formed the spectacle on which the gaze 
of nations was riveted. More than all, at the head 
of this vast and imposing array, rode the greatest 
chieftain of ancient or modern times, one who occu- 
pied an elevation no monarch since Caesar had reached, 
and under whose control in various parts of the 
continent marched 1,400,000 men. But accustomed 
as he was to vast undertakings, the magnitude of this 



ADVANCE TO MOSCOW. 121 

had filled him with serious misgivings. Besides, he 
was acting directly contrary to the rule which he 
himself had laid down, viz., to do one thing at a time, 
and strike in a mass. But here he had Spain in his 
hands where many of his best troops were engaged, 
and at the same time was marching against the 
extreme north, thus keeping two fires blazing at oppo- 
site extremities, which always threaten to exhaust 
and consume the centre. 

I^apoleon, however, had a grand army under his 
control. He had augmented his Guard to upwards of 
&fty-six thousand men, a large army in itself. The Con- 
sular Guard at Marengo, of eight hitnclred men^ pre- 
sents a striking contrast to this immense host. But 
ihe " column of granite" had not changed its charac- 
ter, and as it first stood on the disordered battle-field 
30 firm and immovable, it still stood, — the rock which 
the sea lashes in vain. 

In the advance to Moscow, ]^apoleon spared his 
oruard. Battle after battle was fought, and these 
brave troops were compelled to look on as idle spec- 
tators. It was no better in the " battle of giants." 

THE GUAED AT BOEODINO. 

At Borodino the Guard had j)itched their tents about 

the Emperor, expecting in the morning they at least 

might do something worthy of their old renown. But 

in the most critical state of the battle that followed, he 
6 



123 THE OLD GUAED. 

held them back. At noon, Murat and ITejhad opened 
the road to victory, but were too exhausted to occupy 
it without reinforcements, and sent to the Emperor for 
them. But the fever which wasted him had quenched 
the life and fiery vigor he always exhibited on the field 
of battle, and he remained listless, as if under a 
sj^ell, a great part of the time. He could not make 
up his mind to grant 'Nqj and Murat's request. He 
pondered long with himself, and after again and 
again giving the order for the Young Guard to ad- 
vance, he each time countermanded it and kept it 
near his person. Those two fiery leaders who had 
struggled so gloriously, and saw victory in their 
grasp, were compelled by this strange delay to halt, 
while the enemy reformed, and attacked them in turn. 
After driving every thing before them, they found 
themselves scarce able to make good their defence 
against the heavy onsets to which they were exposed. 
Again Murat sent an urgent demand for succor, and 
^Napoleon at length promised the Young Guard. But 
it had scarcely begun to advance when he ordered it 
to halt. Count Lobau, however, under the pretence 
of dressing the line, worked it gradually forward, 
which the Emperor observing, repeated his order. 
He did, however, let the artillery of the guard ad- 
vance, which soon told with frightful efiect on the 
enemv. The o:enerals had been amazed at the un- 
wonted apathy of their great leader, and it was with 



AT BORODINO. 123 

joy, therefore, they saw eighty pieces of this re- 
nowned artillery lining the summits, and opening 
their heavy fire like a single gun. The Russian 
cavalry, shattered by it, were compelled to retire 
behind the infantry. The latter then advanced in 
black and heavy masses. Through these the cannon 
balls made wide and fearful rents. But they were 
closed up as fast as made, and stern and steady the 
iron columns continued to advance until they came 
within reach of grape shot, when the batteries smote 
them like a sudden hail-storm. "Whole companies fell 
at every d ischarge. Every where throughout the ranks 
portions were seen suddenly to sink away as if engulfed 
in the earth. The soldiers, however, nobly endeavored 
to maintain their formation, closing steadily over the 
dead bodies, and trampling them under foot. But 
they could not breast that frightful tempest, driving 
its iron sleet in their very faces ; and they halted, 
and either petrified at the awful destruction around 
them, or from want of presence of mind and general- 
ship on the part of their leaders, they stood for two 
hours crushed by this deadly fire, making no effort to 
advance or retreat. Kot a sino^le movement was 
visible throughout the immense mass during the whole 
time, except what was made by the falling ranks. 
The brave artillerymen of the Guard at leno^h o-ot 
tired of this horrible slaughter, and the French in- 
fantry advanced and swept the field. IN^ey, Murat, 



124 THE OLD GTJASD. 

and Davoust, commanding the right wing, now 
pushed steadily forward, and annihilated half of the 
Russian line, and came upon the uncovered flank of 
the remainder. Feeling themselves not strong 
enough to meet the whole army, they called aloud 
for the Young Guard. '' The Young Guard !" they 
exclaimed, " only let it follow them at a distance. 
Let it show itself, and take its place upon the 
heights. They themselves would then finish it." 

General Belliard was again sent to Napoleon for it, 
hut the latter still hesitated. When Belliard re- 
turned to Murat and reported the indecision of the 
Emperor, saying that he "found him still seated in 
the same place, with a sufiering and dejected air, 
his features sunken, and gazing around him with a 
dull look, and giving his orders languishingly in the 
midst of these dreadful warlike noises, to which he 
seemed completely a stranger," he was sad. He, 
however, understood it, for he had seen him the day 
before halt several times and dismount, and lean his 
head upon a cannon, apparently in deep suffering. 
Sickness had prostrated him. But l!Tey, who was igno- 
rant of this, was thrown into a rage, and exclaimed, 
" Are we come so far, then, to be satisfied only with 
a field of battle ? "What business has the Emperor 
in the rear of the army ? There he is only within 
reach of reverses, and not of victory."^ 

* Vide Segur. 



CHARGE OF CAULINCOUNT. 125 

l^ot long after, IN^apoleon was told that the crj from 
the whole army was for the Guard, to which he re- 
plied, " And if there should be another battle to- 
morrow, where will be my army to fight it ?" 

Again, for the fourth time, Murat sent to him, 
asking only for the cavalry of the Guard. With them 
he would turn the intrenched heights, with their ter- 
rible redoubt, which offered almost insuperable ob- 
stacles in front, and against which Eugene was 
endeavoring to advance under a most destructive fire 
from the artillery. He still delayed till it was too 
late to take advantage of the crisis into which affairs 
had been thrown. That redoubt, however, which had 
engulfed so many brave French soldiers, must be 
carried, or the battle be lost ; and Murat ordered 
Caulincourt, who succeeded Montbrun in the com- 
mand of the first division of cavalry, after the latter 
fell, to charge the Russian line, and breaking through 
it, dash into the great redoubt by the gorge in rear, 
and storm the battery that was mowing down the 
ranks of Eugene. This brave ofiicer was general in 
the Guard, and the whole night before the battle had 
lain awake on the floor, wrapped in his cloak, gazing 
on the miniature of his young wife, whom he had 
married but .a week previous to his departure from 
Paris. He was sad and depressed, and seemed to 
have a foreboding of the fate that awaited him. As 
he put himself at the head of tlie cavalry, he found 



126 TPIE OLD GUAED. 

the aides-de-camp of Montbrun in tears at tlie loss of 
their commander. "Follow me," said he: "wee^) 
not for him, but come and avenge his death." In 
reply to Murat's order to enter that redoubt right 
through the Russian line, he said, "You shall soon 
see me there, dead or alive." The bugles mounded 
the charge, and putting himself at the head of this 
splendid corps of cavalry, he dashed forward in a 
gallop. The Russians saw the coming tempest, and 
advanced several regiments around the menaced 
point to meet it, while the plunging fire from the 
redoubt smote the swiftlj-advancing column in flank. 
Heedless of all, young Caulincourt pressed forward 
with loud cheers, and fiercely riding down the Rus- 
sian cavalry sent to meet him, stormed over the solid 
masses of infantry, then suddenly wheeling to the 
left, with the heavy-armed cuirassiers, while the light 
cavalry was left to occupy the discomfited infantry, 
began to ascend the slopes towards that terrible 
redoubt. Eugene had just been driven out of it with 
dreadful slaughter, and with re-formed columns was 
again advancing to the attack. His bayonets w^ere 
already gleaming along the ascent, when the driving 
column of the cuirassiers, enveloped in smoke, was 
seen fiercely scaling the highest summit. The sides 
of that hill were for a moment " clothed in glittering 
steel," the next under a redoubled fire from all the 
batteries, those fearless riders plunged straight into 



DEATH OF CAULINCOUNT. 12T 

the volcano. Eugene, who had caught a glimpse of 
the column as it glittered along the sides of the hill, 
was filled with dread when he saw it disappear in 
that gloomy redoubt which lay curtained in smoke. 
But in a few seconds its thunder suddenly ceased, for 
its " fires were quenched in blood," and as the smoke 
slowly rolled away, there flashed in the sun the shin- 
ing helmets of the cuirassiers, while a shout long and 
loud, arose from its top. But Caulincourt found 
there his grave — struck by a musket ball as he was 
leading his men into the entrance, he fell dead in the 
very moment of victory. He was buried in the 
redoubt he had so nobly won. 

He was brother to the grand equerry of I^apoleon. 
When the victory, together with its loss, was reported 
to the Emj)eror, he turned to Caulincourt and said, 
" You have heard the news, do you wish to retire V 
Overwhelmed with grief, the grand equerry made no 
reply, but slightly raising his hat, as if to thank him, 
he moved forward, while the big tears rolled silently 
down his cheeks. Caulincourt's death was a great 
loss to the Guard, and bitterly did they lament him. 

At the close of the battle, ]^ey and Murat sent 
again for the Guard to complete the victory, but it 
was not given them, and the enemy retired in good 
order, leaving I^apoleon a barren triumph. 

At night, I^apoleon called Mortier to him, and 
ordered him to advance with the Young Guard, but 



128 TIIE OLD GTJAED. 

on no account pass the ravine which divided the two 
armies — he was simply to guard the field of battle. 
He even called him back to make sure that he under- 
stood his orders. An hom- after he sent again, com- 
manding him neither to advance nor retreat, what- 
ever might happen. 

At ten o'clock, the impetuous Murat, whom twelve 
hours of hard fighting could not exhaust, went him- 
self to E^apoleon saying that the enemy were crossing 
the Moskwa in great disorder, and asked for the 
cavalry of the Guard to finish it. The latter checked 
the ardor of his brother-in-law, and sat down to dic- 
tate the bulletin. The Old Guard encamped in 
solemn silence around him, but being aroused by an 
irruption of Cossacks, they were compelled to stand 
to arms, thus showing how meagre the victory had 
been. 

In the morning J^apoleon rode over the wi^eck- 
covered field. A cold fierce wind, a driving rain, 
and a sombre sky, imparted still greater gloom and 
desolation to the scene. The hills and valleys were 
literally ploughed up, and the dead lay everywhere. 
The wounded Russians Avere dragging themselves 
wearily to the piles of the dead for shelter from the 
storm, while low moans arose on every side. The 
bivouacs of the French were silent, and officers and 
soldiers were gathered in scattered groups around their 
eagles, sad and sombre as the scene. As ISTapoleon 



THE FIELD OF BATTLE. 129 

passed gloomilj along, he was compelled to trample 
on heaps of dead men. His escort did the same — and 
the hoofs of one of the horses coming down on a 
soldier not quite dead, extorted a low cry of pain. 
On hearing it J^apoleon gave a sudden shriek — the 
first sound that had escaped his lips since he had 
begun to traverse the field. 

He has been much blamed for withholding his 
Guard in the several crises of this battle. ' Segur has 
drawn him as utterly indifferent to its progress, as 
sitting with drooping head and stolid countenance 
during the whole of it. This is doubtless exaggera- 
tion. He evidently was not himself on that day — a 
sick man never is. There are times when the body 
will triumph over the soul, I care not what its capa- 
city. Still ISTapoleon had reasons for what he did. 
He was nearly 2,000 miles from Paris, in an inhos- 
pitable country — far removed from his supplies, and 
he dared not risk his last hope. If the Guard was 
severely crippled, the army would be completely 
hoTs du combat. 

Besides, he expected that the decisive battle would 
take place on the plains of Moscow — that there by 
the cradle of the Empire the army would make its 
last great stand, and in such a contingency he wanted 
at least the Guard intact, to meet any new reinforce- 
ments Alexander might bring against him. On the 

other hand, if by bringing up his resources he could 
6^ 



130 THE OLD GUAED. 

have annihiiated the armj, the anticipated battle could 
not have been fought, nor would the enemy have been 
able to harass his retreat as it did. There were two 
sides to the question, which INTapoleon, no doubt, 
weighed well. At all events, Bessieres, the com- 
mander of the Guard, used all his influence to induce 
the Emperor to spare it, and he would not have done 
this without good reasons, for he was not one to stand 
idle, and hear the murmurs of his officers and men 
demanding to be led where honor and glory could be 
won, without his judgment told him it was impe- 
riously necessary. 

The next day, ISTapoleon put Mortier with a part 
of the Young Guard under Murat, who went in pur- 
suit of the enemy. They overtook him near Kryms- 
koie, established in a strong position. Murat was 
for instantly attacking, but Mortier expostulated 
with him, showing plainly that it would be madness. 
But Murat, heedless of everything, plunged on, thus 
compelling Mortier to second his efforts, or see his 
superior officer sacrificed. The result was as Mortier 
had predicted — they were repulsed with heavy loss, 
and two thousand of that reserve which had been 
husbanded so carefully at Borodino, were uselessly 
sacrificed. The same sacrifice on the field of battle, 
would doubtless have annihilated the Russian 
army. 

But Moscow, the goal for which ISTapoleon had 



m MOSCOW. 131 

toiled over so many battlefields, was at last won, and 
he sat down in the Kremlin — the Old Guard occupy- 
ing another portion of the same magnificent edifice. 

The conflagration of the city followed. But 
after the fire had spread on every side, and finally 
attacked the Kremlin itself, and when a spark drop- 
ping on a single powder wagon would have hurled 
him and the Guard he had reared so carefully, into 
eternity, and after he was told that the Kremlin 
was undermined and ready to lift at the first touch 
of fire and bury all beneath the ruins, he obstinately 
clung to it for twenty-four hours. The Old Guard 
were under arms the whole time, and when at last 
the Emperor, convinced he must fly or be burned 
alive, consented to abandon the palace, it closed 
firmly around him, and passed into the tempest of 
fire. Over burning timbers, amid suftbcating clouds 
of smoke and ashes, those bear-skin caps were seen to 
move steadily as on the field of battle. Hither and 
thither the Conqueror of Europe turned in vain. 
Every way was blocked up by fire, and it was only 
at last by a postern gate that he could advance. But 
this, too, led into nothing but flame. The streets 
became indistinguishable in the smoke and ruins. 
Only one winding street was left, and this seemed to 
pierce the ocean of fire rather than lead out of it. 
But ISTapoleon boldly entered it, while fragments of 
red hot iron roofs and burning timbers tumbling at 



132 THE OLD GUARD. 

his feet, and arresting his progress, and the crackling 
of flames and crash of falling houses, conspired to 
render the scene most appalling. At length the 
guide halted, not knowing whither to proceed. Here, 
probably, would have ended the history of I^apoleon 
and his Old Guard, had it not been for some pillagers 
who happened to recognize the Emperor, and con- 
ducted him to a part of the town which had been 
burned to ashes in the morning, and thus left an open 
space where they could breathe again. 

Still the danger was not over — to escape he was 
compelled to pass a long train of powder wagons that 
were slowly making their way out of the fire. When 
they at last reached the outskirts of the city, the Old 
Guard looked as if it had been in a hard fought 
battle. Their faces were blackened with smoke, their 
clothes and caps singed almost to a crisp, and the 
brave fellows themselves exhausted from being so 
long compelled to breathe heated air, smoke, and 
ashes. But calm, like their great leader, whom dan- 
ger always tranquillized, they had met all with firm 
presence and unshaken courage. 

After the destruction of the city, ITapoleon re- 
turned to the Kremlin, which a battalion of the 
Guard had succeeded in saving. Here he continued 
to linger — almost every day reviewing his Guard — 
until a month had passed away, and the last of Octo- 
ber, with its wintry premonitions, had come. 



ITS HONESTY. 133 

At length, however, he awoke from his strange in- 
fatuation, and commenced his retreat. From that 
moment hia Guard became his stay, and ultimately 
his salvation. 

An incident occurred during the conflagration, 
which illustrates the moral character of the Old 
Guard. Bouvier-Destouches, a lieutenant of the 
mounted grenadiers, had been able with some of his 
squadron, to save a part of the wealth of Prince 
Gagarin, when his j)alace was enveloped in flames. 
As a token of gratitude, the prince off'ered him a 
wooden dish full of vessels of gold, telling him to 
bury them till the fire was over, and then he could 
carry them away. 

The Lieutenant thanked him, but refused the pre- 
sent, saying, " when one has the honor to belong to 
the Old Guard, the only recompense which can please 
him is the consciousness of having done his duty." 
The prince still urging his acceptance of the gift, the 
officer took the vessels, and hurling them through a 
window of the palace into the river, said gaily, 
" Prince, mark the spot where they fall, and when 
order is re-established, you can fish them up again." 
Strict honesty was one of the leading characteristics 
of the Old Guard. General Dorsenne, who com- 
manded a corps of grenadiers, once said, " If I had a 
wagon load of gold, I would put it in the mess-room 
of my grenadiers — it would be safer there than under 



134 THE OLD GUAED. 

lock and key." During the retreat, as the army 
approached the Beresina, the paymaster of the Guard 
fearing the chest would fall into the hands of the Cos- 
sacks, distributed the whole amount among the 
soldiers of the Guard, who put it in their knapsacks. 
"When the army reached the other side of the river, 
it was rendered up again, and the amount, 2,000,000 
of francs j found entire, with the exception of some 
two hundred francs, which had sunk with the grena- 
dier who carried it in the waves of the Beresina. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

1812. 

THE OLD GUAED IN EUSSIA, 

THE EETREAT. 

Narrow escape of Napoleon— Disorder of the army on arriving at Smolensko— 
Firmness of the Old Guard— The famine ia the city— Gloomy departure— The 
Guard passing a Eussian hattery — The Old Guard at Krasnoi— The fall of Minsk, 
and gloom of Napoleon— His appeal to the Old Guard— His joy at Ney's safety— 
The Old Guard at Beresiaa — Its frozen bivouacs — Anecdote of an officer — De- 
parture of Napoleon for Paris, and the breaking up of the Guard— Last dreadful 
days. 

As I mentioned at the close of the last chapter, the 
moment IN'apoleon commenced his disastrous retreat, 
the Old Guard became his chief reliance. Kot only 
was the discipline of the soldiers so perfect that no dis- 
order of the army of the line could affect it, their cour- 
age so lofty that overwhelming numbers of the enemy, 
storms, frost, and famine, could not shake it, but the 
moral character they possessed was a guarantee 
against all plunder, misrule, and desertion. Amid 



136 TIIE OLD GUARD. 

the motley crowd laden with booty that passed from 
the gates of Moscow, the firm array and noble bear^ 
ing of that Guard gave a prestige of its future con- 
duct. Two thousand miles lay between those brave 
men and Paris — it mattered not, closing around their 
beloved chieftain, they were prepared for any fate 
that might befal. A few battalions were left behind, 
under Mortier, to blow up the Kremlin, who, after 
fighting four days with a hundred and eighty thou- 
sand pounds of powder under their feet, set fire to it, 
and then joined the main body. 

A few days after the evacuation of Moscow, 'Na- 
poleon narrowly escaped being made prisoner by the 
Cossacks. He had started early in the morning on 
the Kaluga road with only a few officers, leaving the 
four squadrons of the Guard, his regular escort, to 
overtake him. Before they arrived, as he was passing 
along without dreaming of immediate danger, he 
suddenly saw the crowds of men and women who 
filled the road in advance with vehicles, hurrying 
back in terror, overturning the wagons and creating 
a scene of indescribable confusion. Supposing it a 
groundless panic, he continued to move forward. At 
length the long black lines which had remained 
motionless in the distance, began to advance, and a 
moment after, six thousand Cossacks came dashing 
down in a wild gallop. Rapp cried out to the empe- 
ror, " It is the Cossacks, turn back." The latter dis- 



APPKOACH TO SMOLENSKO. 137 

believing it, or too proud to flj, stood still. The 
furious hordes were already surrounding him, when 
Rapp seized the bridle of his horse, and turning him 
round, exclaimed, " Indeed you must turn back." 
]Sra23oleon perceiving at length the full extent of his 
danger, immediately drew his sword and placing 
himself with Berthier and Caulincourt on the side 
of the road, calmly waited the attack of the barba- 
rians. They approached to within fifty paces when 
Eapp flung himself on the foremost. A lance pierced 
his horse, and he fell. The aides-de-camp and a few 
horsemen of the Guard, extricated him. A moment 
after, however, Bessieres came thundering up with 
the cavalry of the Guard, and swept the field. 

Soon after, winter began to set in, and the snow 
covering up concealed ditches and morasses, made 
such uncertain footing for the soldiers and unsafe 
ground for horses and artillery, that the loss of the 
army became immense. Over the field of Borodino 
laden with thirty thousand skeletons and wrecks of 
every descrij^tion, through desolated ]3rovinces, living 
often on half raAV horse flesh and rye water, the Old 
Guard, firm and uncomplaining, bore its emperor on 
till at last they approached Smolensko, the place 
where all their sorrows were to end, and plenty to 
be exchanged for famine, and warm bivouacks take 
the place of beds of snow and ice. The soldiers 
could not resist the alluring prospect, and broke their 



13S THE OLD GUARD. 

ranks and hnrried forward, pell-mell towards ihe city. 
The commands of the officers were disregarded, even 
threats of punishment produced no effect. Food, 
and fire, and clothing, and rest, were before them. 
Thegnawings of hunger, pinching frost, and starvation 
impelled them on, and they swept in one vast crowd 
to the gates. The Old Guard alone showed no symp- 
toms of disorganization. Half naked, and cold, and 
hungry, they also were, but with steady step and 
unalterable mien, they continued their march in 
as perfect order as when they first crossed the !N"ie- 
men. 

The French troops in possession of Smolensko, saw 
this multitude of more than fifty thousand men 
approaching with haggard looks and wild cries, and 
fearing that such an irruption would end in a general 
pillage, and also to show that the desertion of their 
colors should never be rewarded, sternly shut the 
gates upon them. Then arose the most doleful cries, 
prayers and entreaties were mingled with threats 
and curses, and mass after mass precipitated itself 
against the gates to burst them open. Entreaties and 
violence were alike in vain, and many fell down dead 
from exhaustion. 

Several hours after, the Guard came up, its ranks 
unbroken, its eagles above them ; and moving steadily 
into the clamorous and excited throng, cleared a path 
for themselves to the gates. Their entrance guaran- 



FAMINE. 139 

teed the safety of the city. The poor wretches pressed 
after, cursing the Guard, demanding if they were 
always to be a " privileged class, fellows kept for 
mere parade, who were never foremost but at reviews, 
festivities, and distributions, if the army was always 
to put up with their leavings." Despair and suffer- 
ing had made them unjust. 

Alas, this city which Napoleon supposed to be well 
supplied with provisions, proved barren as a desert. 
To their horror, instead of finding abundance to eat, 
the skeletons of horses, along the streets, from which 
the flesh had been peeled, showed that famine had 
been there before them. Around the scantily filled 
magazines the soldiers crowded with agonizing cries, 
and could scarcely be kept from murdering each 
other to get a morsel of food. But this dreadful 
example had no efiect on the Guard. They knew 
that more than a month of toil and suffering, of 
combats with the cold and the enemy, must be en- 
dured, before they could reach a place of safety — 
yet the same severity and order marked all their con- 
duct. 

After remaining here five days, N^apoleon issued 
orders to re-commence the retreat. The debris of the 
cavalry had been collected together, *:he half- destroyed 
battalions united into separate corps, while eight or 
nine thousand infantry, and some two thousand cav- 
alry of the Guard, all that remained, were put in the 



140 THE OLD GUAED. 

best conditions their straitened circumstances would 
permit — and on the 14th of JN^ovember, at five o'clock 
in the morning, the whole marched out of Smolensko. 
^Napoleon, with the Guard in a solid column, was in ad- 
vance. Its march was firm as ever, but gloomy as the 
grave. Daylight had not yet appeared, and that dark 
column passed out upon the snow fields, silent as death. 
]Srot a drum or a bugle cheered their march, and more 
sombre and sterner than all, rode IsTapoleon in their 
midst, his great soul wrung with silent agony. The 
cracking of whips as the drivers lashed their horses, 
or a smothered imprecation as horses, and men, and 
cannon rolled down a declivity in the darkness 
together, were the only sounds that'ljroke the stillness 
of the mornino;, as the doomed host lost itself in the 
deepening gloom of a northern winter. It made but 
thirteen miles the first day, a distance it took the 
artillery of the Guard twenty-two hours to accom- 
plish. Such was the first day's march, making scarce 
a mile an hour through the snow and frost, yet it 
was the easiest they were to have for a month to 
come. 

"While the imperial column was thus toiling for- 
ward, the enemy had got in advance and occupied 
the road between it and Krasnoi with a battery and 
thirty squadrons of horse. The leading corps of the 
French army was thrown into disorder by this sudden 
appearance of the enemy, and would have broken 



DEVOTION TO NAPOLEON. 141 

and fled, but for a wounded officer, the brave Excel- 
mans, wlio, although having no command, immedi- 
ately assumed it in the face of the proper leader, and 
bj his energy and daring, restored order. He thus 
succeeded in putting on a bold front which intimi- 
dateel the squadrons, and they dared not charge. The 
battery, however, kept up an incessant fire, the balls 
at every discharge crossing the road along which 
the column was marching. When it came the turn 
of the Old Guard to pass, they closed their ranks 
in a solid wall of flesh around the emperor, and 
moved steadily into the fire, while their band of 
music struck up the air, " Ou jpeut-on etre Tnieux qv? 
au sein de safamilleV^ "Where can one be happier 
than in the bosom of his family ?" Napoleon stoj^ped 
them, exclaiming, " Play rather Veillons au salut de 
VEmpirey " Let us watch for the safety of the Em- 
pire." 

As soon as the Old Guard had passed, the Russian 
commander, who had not dared even with his vastly 
superior force to arrest this terrible corps, threw 
twenty thousand men across the road on all the 
.heights around, thus dividing J^apoleon from Eugene, 
Davoust, and ISTey, who were bringing up the rear. 
Mortier had escaped, but Eugene was compelled to 
fight his way through, with the loss of nearly his 
whole division. Davoust was next in rear, ITey 



14-2 THE OLD GUAED. 

came last, thoiio;!! no news had been received from 
him for a long time. 

Although at Krasnoi ITapoleon saw the enemy in 
immense force surrounding him to take him prisoner, 
he would not leave the place till assured of the safety 
of his lieutenants. He had heard all day long the 
cannonading which annihilated Eugene's corps, but 
could not succor him. 

After the prince had escaped, his anxiety for Da- 
voust and ITey was redoubled. He had determined, 
before the arrival of Eugene, to face about, and with 
his feeble force attack the enemy, and thus make a 
great eflbrt, but a still greater sacrifice for those noble 
officers. Still holding to this determination, he sent 
forward Eugene with the miserable wreck of his corps, 
while he, with his Old Guard, prepared to march back 
on the Russian army, and attempt to save Davoust and 
]N"ey. The night before, however, the Young Guard, 
under Roquet, crushed to atoms a vanguard of Rus- 
sian infantry, which had taken position in front of 
[N'apoleon, to cut off his retreat. The latter ordered 
him to attack the enemy in the dark, and with the bay- 
onet alone, saying that this was " the first time he had 
exhibited so much audacity, and he would make him 
repent it in such a way that he should never again 
dare approach so near his head-quarters." The com- 
plete success of the expedition detained the Russian 



SACRIFICE OF ITSELF. 143 

afmj twentj-foiir tiours — a delay of vast importance 
to the French. 

In the morning, before daylight, ^Napoleon placed 
liimself on foot in the midst of the Old Guard and 
issued from Krasnoi. As he grasped his sword, he 
said, " I have sufficiently acted the Emperor — it is 
time I became the General." Perhaps there is not a 
more sublime exhibition of heroism in the whole of 
his career than this effort to save Davoust and J^ey. 
"With only six thousand of his Guard, and some five 
thousand under Mortier, com]30sed cliiefly of the 
Young Guard, he turned to meet eighty thousand 
victorious troops, entrenched on commanding heights 
and protected by a powerful artillery. The enemy 
was sweeping round him in a vast semi-circle and a 
few hours of delay might cut off his retreat entirely, 
yet he resolved to march back instead of forward, 
and to lessen his force in a hopeless combat, instead 
of preserving it for his own use. He well knew the 
peril of the undertaking, but he had determined to 
succor his brave marshals or perish in the attempt. 

Silently and sternly this brave band retraced its steps 
over the snow-covered field, uttering no complaint, 
and ready as ever to be sacrificed at the will of their 
beloved leader. When daylight dawned, lo, on three 
sides of them the Russian batteries crowned the 
heights. Into the "centre of that terrible circle'' 
the old Guard moved with an intrepid step and took 



144: THE OLD GTJAED. 

up its position. A few yards in advance, Mortier 
deployed liis five thousand in front of the whole army, 
and the battle opened, if that can be called a battle 
in which a small devoted band stands and is shot 
down, solely to attract the enemy's force from another 
quarter. The Russians needed only to advance, and 
by the mere weight of its masses, crush that Old 
Guard to atoms. But awed by its firm presence', and 
more than all by the terrible renown it had won, and 
by the still greater renown of its leader whom they 
regarded almost as a supernatural being, they dared not 
close with it. They, however, trained their cannon 
on the ranks, through which the shot went tearing 
with frightful eifect — but without a movement of im- 
patience, the living closed over the dead to be trod- 
den under foot in turn. Thus girdled with fire, they 
stood hour after hour, while ^JsTapoleon strained his 
eager gaze to catch a glimpse of Davoust and 'Ney. 
At length he saw Davoust alone, dragging his weary 
columns through clouds of Cossacks and marching 
straight on the Russian batteries. But as the soldiers 
came in sight of Krasnoi, they disbanded, and mak- 
ing a detour to escape the enemy's guns, rushed pell- 
mell into the place. 

^N^apoleon having seen half his Guard shot down, 
commenced his retreat, leaving Mortier with the 
Toung Guard to keep the enemy in check as long 
as he could, telling him that he would send back Da- 



A REMNAXT LEFT. 145 

voust with his rallied troops to his assistance. They 
must, if possible, hold out till night and then 
rejoin him. The enemy he said was overwhelming 
him on every side, and soon his retreat would be entirely 
cut off and he must push on and occupy the passage 
of the Borysthenes, or all would be lost. He pressed 
this brave marshal's hand sorrowfully as he parted 
from him, and traversing Krasnoi, cleared the road 
beyond it as he advanced. But Mortier could not 
obey the orders he had received, for a part of the Young 
Guard had lost an important post they had been 
defending, and the Russians emboldened by Napo- 
leon's departure, began to close slowly around him. 
Roquet endeavored to take the position that had been 
lost, and from which a Russian battery was now vomit- 
ing death on his ranks, but of the regiment which he 
sent against it, only eleven officers and fifty soldiers 
retm^ned to tell how they fought and fell. It was 
then that Mortier performed that admirable move- 
ment which shed such glory on him and the Young 
Guard. "With the three thousand, all that was left of 
his five thousand, he wheeled and marched in ordi- 
nary time out of that concentrated fire. 

IN'ey was left behind abandoned of all, and appa- 
rently a doomed man, yet to exhibit still greater hero- 
ism, and furnish a still more miraculous page in the 
history of this unparalleled retreat. 

J^apoleon continuing his retreat, came to Dom- 
7 



146 THE OLD GTJAED. 

browna, a town built of wood, where he encamped 
for the night, and obtained some provisions. In the 
night he was heard groaning — the name of ]N"ej ever 
and anon escaping his lips — and monrning over the 
sufferings of his poor soldiers, and yet declaring that 
it was impossible to help them without stop^^ing, and 
this he could not do with no ammunition, provisions, 
or artillery. He had not force enough to make a 
halt. " He must reach Minsk as quickly as possible." 
Here were his magazines, his great hope, towards 
which he was toiling with the energy of despair. 

But scarcely had these words escaped him, when a 
Polish officer arrived, stating that Minsk had been 
taken by the enemy. E^apoleon was struck dumb by 
this new and overwhelming disaster ; then raising his 
head, he said, " "Well, there is nothing left now, but 
to clear our passage with our bayonets." 

Despatches were immediately sent to the different 
portions of the army in advance, where they had. 
remained during the march of the grand army to 
Moscow ; and then, dejected and worn out, he sunk 
into a lethargy. It was not yet daylight when a sudden 
tumult aroused him from his stupor. He sent Rapp 
out to ascertain the cause. But the uproar increas- 
ing, he imagined that a nocturnal attack had been 
made upon his head-quarters, and immediately in- 
quired if the artillery had been placed behind a 
ravine made by a stream that ran through the town. 



A PAKIC. 147 

Being told that it had not, he hastened thither him- 
self and saw it brought over. He then came back to 
his Old Guard who were standing to arms, and ad- 
dressing each battalion in turn, said, " Grenadiers, 
we are retreating without being conquered by the 
enemy ; let us not be vanquished by ourselves ! Set 
an example to the army. Several of you have already 
deserted your eagles, and even thrown away your 
arms. I have no wish to have recourse to military 
laws to put a stop to this disorder, but appeal entirely 
to your sense of duty. Do justice to yourselves. To 
your own honor I commit the maintenance of your 
discipline." 

This was all that was needed to make the grena- 
diers firm as iron. In fact it w^as rather whlp|)ing 
the other troops over the Old Guard's shoulders, for 
amid the general panic that prevailed in the dark- 
ness, when all believed the enemy was upon them, 'Na- 
poleon on his return, found them standing in perfect 
order, and ready to charge on ten or ten thousand alike. 

It proved a false alarm ; order was restored, but 
only to be lost again a few hours after, among all but 
the Guard and a few hundred men belonging to 
Prince Eugene. The confused mass streamed alonor 
the road towards Orcha, the Guard alone showing 
the array of disciplined troops. 

Six thousand were all that entered the place, out of 
that magnificent and veteran corps. Here the dan- 



14:8 THE OLD GUARD. 

gers thickened ; for two armies were cntting off their 
retreat, while the winter was deepening, and the cold 
becoming more and more intense. There was nothing 
before the fragments of the grand army, but deserts 
of snow and ice over whose desolate bosom Cossacks 
were streaming, and the artillery of the enemy thnn- 
dering. Napoleon resorted to threats to maintain 
discipline among his troops, but they had lost all fear 
of death — it was the slow torture that made them 
wild wdth despair. ITothing but the firm presence 
of the Old Guard and Eugene's few men prevented 
them from pillaging Orcha, although situated on a 
friendly frontier. The wonder is not that soldiers 
under such sufferings should become disorganized, but 
that the few thousand of the Old Guard could resist 
the infectious example, especially as by their orderly 
march they lost all the provisions by day and fuel by 
night, which the stragglers were able to pick n-p ; and 
suffered dreadfully the want of both. Minsk, beyond 
the Beresina, had kept alive their hopes, but now 
nothing but frozen deserts lay beyond that inhospita- 
ble river. 

Still they stood firm. ITapoleon had said to them, 
" Grenadiers of my Guard, you are witnesses of the 
disorganization of the army. The greater part of 
your brethren have, by a deplorable fatality, thrown 
away their arms. If you imitate this sad example, 
all hope will be lost. The safety of the army is >5on- 



ITS EAGLES ARE BUENED. 149 

fided to yon. You will justify the good opinion I have 
had of you. It is necessary not only that the officers 
among you maintain a severe discipline, but also that 
the soldiers should exercise a rigorous surveillance, 
and themselves punish those who attempt to leave 
their ranks." 

This appeal to their honor was received in dead 
silence — not in words but in deeds they were to prove 
his confidence well placed ; and shivering with cold 
and reeling from exhaustion, they closed sternly 
around him. 

On the 20th of JSTovember, E"apoleon quitted Orcha 
with his Guard, leaving behind him Eugene, Mortier, 
and Davoust to wait for ISTey. The officers declared 
it was impossible that he should escape, but the empe- 
ror would not abandon the last hope. He knew the 
indomitable character of the man, and that he would 
perform everything short of miracles before he would 
surrender. 

Four days after he heard that the heroic marshal 
was safe. When the courier brought the news he 
leaped into the air and shouted for joy, it was a sud- 
den flash of light and hope on the night of his dark- 
ness and dejection. 

But the horrors of this march increased as he 
advanced towards the Beresina, and when he arrived 
near that fatal river, he ordered all his eagles to be 
burned, together with half the wagons and carnages 



150 THE OLD GTJAED. 

of the army, and tlie horses to be given to the artil- 
lery of the Guard. He commanded them also to lay 
hands on all the draught cattle within their reach, 
not sparing even his own horses, rather than leave a 
single cannon or ammunition wagon behind. Eigh- 
teen hundred dismounted cavalry of the Guard were 
rallied into two battalions, although but eleven hun- 
dred of them could be supplied with muskets or car- 
bines. All the officers of the cavalry of the army 
that still had horses, formed themselves into a '' sacred 
squadron'''^ for the protection of the person of the 
emperor ; and with this and the Old Guard as a fixed 
and central orb to retain the vast and straggling mul- 
titude — ISTapoleon, with a sack of poison on his breast 
to take in the last extremity rather than fall into the 
hands of the Cossacks, plunged into the gloomy forest 
of Minsk, and pressed forward to the desperate con- 
flict that awaited him on the banks of the Beresina. 
Amid the double darkness of the night and the 
forest, thousands perished, and N"apoleon with knit 
brow and compressed lip saw men in raging delirium 
constantly falling at his feet wildly entreating for help. 
The frightful disorder that arose among the multitude 
during the awful passage of the Beresina, when the Old 
Guard at last began to cross, shows with what feelings 
the army regarded it. It was compelled to clear a 
passage for the emperor with the bayonet, though one 
corps of grenadiers, out of mere compassion, refused 



ITS SUFFEEINGS. 161 

to exercise force on the despairing, pleading wretches, 
even to save themselves. 

Having reached the opposite banks, they defended 
them during the succeeding days of storm, and bat- 
tle, and death that marked the passage. It encamped 
near the ruins of Brelovs^a, in the open fields with 
Napoleon, also unsheltered, in their midst. During 
the day they were drawn up in order of battle, while 
the driving snow covered them as with a shroud ; at 
night they bivouacked in a square around their suf- 
fering, yet intrepid leader. These veterans of a hun- 
dred battles would sit on their knapsacks feeding 
their feeble fires, their elbows planted on their knees, 
and their heads resting on their hands, doubling 
themselves up for the twofold purpose of retaining 
the little warmth they possessed, and of feeling less 
acutely the gnawings of empty stomachs. The nights 
were nearly sixteen hours long, and either filled with 
clouds of snow, or so piercing cold that the thermome- 
ter sunk to twenty, and sometimes to over thirty 
degrees below zero. Painful marches, fierce battles, 
tattered clothing, cold, and famine combined, were 
too much for human endurance, and in a few days one 
third of the Guard perished. 

One who had seen that corps, on a review day in 
Paris, would not have recognized its uniform in the 
tattered vestments that half protected their persons. 
But they never murmured, never broke their solid 



152 THE OLD GUARD. 

formation, but clenching firmlj with frozen fingers 
their muskets, struggled and died at their posts. 

The following solitary incident illustrates the 
character and suffering of all. One day a mounted 
grenadier, or one who belonged to the corps of 
mounted grenadiers, though no longer possessing a 
horse, approached a fire occupied by various soldiers of 
the army. He waS a tall, elegantly formed man, with a 
face full of serenity and firmness. He was covered 
with tatters of every color, having saved nothing of 
his handsome uniform but his sabre and a few pieces 
of the fur of his bear-skin cap, which he had wrapped 
around his head to protect it from the frost. His 
breath had congealed into icicles which hung from 
his lips and beard. He had but one boot, the other 
foot being enveloped in shreds of coarse cloth. As 
he approached the fire, he unrolled a small piece of 
linen cloth and held it out to dry, saying, " I will 
finish my washing." When it was dry he rolled a 
little tobacco in it, and said gaily, " We are used up, 
but it is all the same, Yive rMripereur. We have 
always thoroughly flogged these Kussians, who are 
nothing but schoolboys compared to us." 

Such was the destitution and such the spirit of this 
glorious old corps. It seems fabulous that any body 
of men could be subjected to the extremes of cold 
and hunger they underwent, and one be left alive to 
tell the tale of their sufferings and courage. Ever' 



NAPOLEON LEAVES IT. 153 

since they left Smolensko they had lived on horse 
£esh half roasted and rye water which in the absence 
of salt they seasoned with gunpowder. 

From the Beresina to Smorgoni, the grand army 
exhibited nothing but a disordered mob, with the 
exception of the Guard. At the latter place JSTapo- 
leon gave a farewell and agonized look upon it, and set 
out for Paris. Murat was left in command, but the 
giant mind had gone, and the Old Guard, scorning 
to take in its keeping an inferior person, voluntarily 
broke its ranks, and dispersed with the other strag- 
glers. Its solid squares were no longer seen at night, 
nor its firm array by day, the trust and hope of all. 
The disorder then became frightful, and the last 
remaining days of the grand army presented the 
accumulation of all horrors. The Guard still num- 
bering three thousand men partook of these horrors 
and sufferings. The weather suddenly became 
intensely cold, the thermometer standing day after 
day from twenty to thirty degrees below zero. 
Floundering through snow drifts, piercing dark for- 
ests, the frozen multitude dragged itself along, the 
silence broken only by the crackling of ice under 
their feet, or the low moan or shriek of despair, or 
last faint cry of soldiers as they fell stiff and stark on 
the icy earth. The living trod over the dead with- 
out turning aside to avoid the corpses. They stopped 
only to take the last morsel of food from the dying, 



154r THE OLD GUARD. 

and to pounce like wolves upon a fallen horse, and 
quarrel oyer his emaciated carcass. The exhausted 
wretches strained their bloody eyes on the pitiless 
heavens, and then with heart-rending sighs, fell to 
rise no more. At night the strongest cut down fir 
trees for fire, into which the frozen stragglers as they 
arrived would often throw themselves, and be burned 
to a cinder. The frost seemed to attack the brains of 
many, causing the most frightful delirium. But the 
details are too horrible — let them rest with the dead 
who fattened with their corpses the deserts of Russia. 

When the army arrived at "Wilna, only a few pla- 
toons of the Old Guard remained, and they no longer 
obeyed the beat of the generate. Murat's shameful 
desertion of the army here completed the wreck. 

The remains of that splendid army which in June 
had crossed the Niemen 500,000 strong, was now 
chased back by a detachment of cavalry. The solid 
squares of the Old Guard remained in Russia. Many 
of their bivouacs could be traced in the sj)ring by 
the circle of skeletons that encompassed a heap of 
ashes. That " column of granite" had melted away, 
and nothing but its base was left on which another 
was to be speedily reared. 

But its fame lasts. The courage that nothing could 
daunt, the patient endm-ance under unheard of hor- 
rors, the sublime moral elevation of its character, 
its steadfast devotion to duty amid universal disorder, 



IS LEFT IN EUSSIA. 155 

and which no bad example nor the last pangs of mortal 
agony could demoralize, its lofty sense of honor tri- 
umphing over famine and death, will claim the admi 
ration of the world till the end of time. 



CHAPTEE X. 

1813. 

Eeorganization of the Army— Death of Bessieres — ^The Old Guard at Lutzen— 
Its Last Charge— Drouot ; his Character— Death of Duroc— Mournful Scene 
around the Tent of iSTapoleon- The Guard in Bohemia— Its Astonishing March tc 
Dresden — Its Bravery — ^Napoleon in its Squares on the Battle-field — Tableau— 
The Old Guard at Leipzic — The Eetreat — Battle of Hauau — It is won by the 
Guard — It leaves for ever the Scene of its Achievements. 

The Eussian Campaign had swallowed up tlie 
Frencli army, and Prussia immediately took up arms 
with Eussia to complete the destruction of I^apoleon. 
False and treacherous, the former deemed that now 
was the time to strike her unfortunate ally. But this 
lofty intellect and unconquerable will scorned to yield 
to the storm that was about to burst upon him in his 
helpless state. He looked around him and saw only 
the broken fragments of an army. The Old Guard, with 
its artillery and cavalry, was gone. Still there was a 
nucleus left. He had but eight hundred at IMarengo, 
and yet he made it terrible to the enemy. It is true 
he was without cannon — ^nearly a thousand were 



CKEATION OF A WEW ARMY. 157 

strewed by the way in his retreat from Russia — he had 
no trained horses, they had died or been eaten for 
food, and there were disciplined and strong armies, 
well supplied both with artillery and cavalry, to be 
met. Already they were marching on the possessions 
of France. 

Yet from this desolation, IlTapoleon determined to 
create an army with both artillery and cavalry, and 
roll back the presumptuous enemy who dared to 
menace the soil of France, and assail his throne. 
Four veteran regiments of the Old Guard remained 
in Spain — these were recalled. Cannon from the 
arsenals, and artillerists from the ships of war were 
collected, horses purchased, and a conscription set on 
foot, which soon brought to his standard a vast army. 
But such had been the drain on France to support 
the former wars, that the conscription descended to 
mere youths, seventeen years old, and the pupils of 
the Guard were brought forward. The IS'ational 
Guard of France, a hundred thousand well disci- 
plined men, were also incorporated into the army, 
while the Guards of Honor, as they were called, com- 
posed of the sons of wealthy and distinguished fami- 
lies, recruited the cavalry. These guards of honor 
were mounted bodies of men in the various cities of 
France — organized merely to receive and attend 
ISTapoleon when he passed through their res23ective 
places, and were wholly unfit for service. The elite 



158 THE OLD GUAED.- 

of the army of tlie line were taken to compose the 
Old Guard, and it soon assumed its former ap- 
pearance. 

The greatest enthusiasm prevailed among the 
soldiers, and soon this new army took np its line of 
march for Germany, to join the relics of the different 
corps that still remained there after the retreat from 
Russia. 

Although deficient in cavalry, I^apoleon imme- 
diately assumed the offensive, and pressed forward to 
seek the allies near Leipzic. Poserna, on the way to 
Lutzen, was defended, and in taking those heights, 
Bessieres, the commander of the Old Guard, was 
struck dead by a cannon-ball. This brave officer, 
who had risen from the ranks to Marshal of the 
empire, was dearly loved by the Guard. When it was 
composed of but eight hundred men, and laid the 
foundation of its fame at Marengo, he was at the head 
of it. Through all the terrible campaigns of Napo- 
leon in Italy and Spain, at Austerlitz, Wagram, and 
Eylau, through all the disastrous retreat from Eussia, 
he had headed its invincible columns. N'oble in 
heart, heroic in courage, of great integrity of charac- 
ter, his death was an irreparable loss to the Emperor 
and to the Guard. His body was embalmed, and 
sent to the Hotel des Invalides. 

That night Kapoleon encamped in the plain where 
rose the tomb of Gustavus Adolphus. The next day 



BEAVERY OF THE CONSCRIPTS. 159 

the battle of Lutzen was fouglit. Early in the morn- 
ing the heavy cannonading- on the right, where ISTey 
commanded, showed that there was to be the weight 
of the battle. In a short time, the concentration of 
heavy masses in that part of the field by the enemy, 
had driven back the French a mile and a half. The 
five villages, which formed their stronghold, were all 
carried, after having been taken and retaken several 
times. 'Nej had exhibited his old valor, and the 
young conscripts under him, who then for the first 
time were nnder fire, behaved like veterans. " I^ive 
times,''^ said he, " I led back those brave youths to 
the charge." But their valor was vain, and the victo- 
rious enemy was pushing them fiercely from their 
positions. 

"When the news of this disaster reached ISTapoleon, 
he turned to Berthier and Caulincourt, with the 
exclamation " Ha T' accompanied by a look which 
" froze every heart around him with horror." The 
day was wellnigh lost, and he knew it. But instead 
of yielding to discouragement, he rose with the 
increasing danger, and set off on a gallop, followed by 
his invincible Guard, to the scene of disaster. 

Where the cannonading was heaviest, and the 
clouds of smoke rose thickest, thither he directed his 
course. The field was covered with fugitives ; while 
the columns that were still unbroken, were slowly 
retiring. Clouds of the enemy's cavalry were wait- 



160 THE OLD GUAED. 

ing impatiently till tlie last village was cleared, and 
the retreating troops should deploy in the open plain, 
to sweep down on them, and complete their destruc- 
tion. 

But hope revived at ^Napoleon's presence — the 
conscripts rallied again, and shouts of " Yive VEmi- 
fercuT^'^ rolled along the lines. Placing himself 
behind I^ey's division, he rallied it, and sent it for- 
ward to the attack. Intrepidly advancing, it drove 
back the enemy, and retook a portion of the first vil- 
lage. But the allies receiving reinforcements, returned 
to the assault, and a bloody combat ensued around 
the shattered houses. 

I'Teither party, however, could win the victory, but 
JSTapoleon gained what he stood in desperate need of 
— time for the foot soldiers and artillery of the Guard 
to arrive. Soon the bear-skin caps appeared, and 
infantry and artillery came thundering up to the 
Emperor, who had hardly time to form its massive 
columns of attack, when the French were again 
driven out of the village, while the shouts of the 
enemy y/ere heard above the roar of the cannon. The 
Emperor threw one glance upon his flying troops, 
and then ordered Drouot, with sixty guns, to advance, 
and ten battalions of the Guard to follow. This 
dreadful artillerist cleared a way for his cannon 
throuo^h the crowd of fao-itives that covered the 
plain, and opened his swift and deadly fire. Its eflfect 



CHARGE AT LUTZEN. 161 

was tremendous ! To the distant observer the guns 
never seemed to. stop, but to fire as thej moved. 
Pressing steadily after, the Guard enveloped in 
smoke, pushed on, carrying village after village with 
loud hurrahs. In the close and deadly combat, offi- 
cers were falling on every side, and the enemy strug- 
gled nobly to retain some portion of their conquests 
— flinging themselves, cavalry and infantry, in des- 
perate valor, on those swiftly advancing columns. 
But onsets of cavalry, the fire of the artillery, were 
alike unheeded — in a solid mass those bear-skin caps 
were seen moving through the smoke, while the flash 
of their guns kept receding farther and farther, in 
the distance. Twilight gathered over the landscape, 
yet the outlines of that resistless column were revealed 
by the blaze of its guns, still advancing, till the field 
was swept and the victory gained. 

'Next morning the track of the Guard could be 
followed by the heaps of the dead it had left in its 
frightful passage. 

The sight of the French conscripts who had fallen 
round those villages was mournful in the extreme. 
Mere youths — their forms not yet developed into 
manhood, their boyish features covered with blood, 
and stifiened in death — gave a still more horrid aspect 
to the field, and uttered a new malediction on war. 



162 THE OLD GUABD. 



CHAKACTEK OF DEOTJOT. 



Drouot was perhaps the most remarkable artil- 
lerist the world has ever produced. He commanded 
the artillery of the Guard to the last, and made it 
the most terrible and deadly that ever swept a battle- 
field. Napoleon always kept him for great emer- 
gencies, and when this bold, stern man, received 
an order in the midst of a battle to bring up his 
guns, he knew it was not to defend a point, but to 
recover a half-lost field, and move fiercely and stea- 
dily on victorious and overpowering troops. At such 
times he set off on a gallop, while the field shook 
under the weight of his cannon, as they came thun- 
dering after. He was perfectly aware of the danger- 
ous position he held, and when about to advance on 
the enemy, he always dismounted, and placing him- 
self on foot, in the midst of his guns, dressed in his 
old uniform of general of artillery, walked firmly 
into the hottest fire. Pie was somewhat superstitious 
about this imiform — he had never been wounded 
in it, and hence came to regard it as a sort of charm, 
or at least believed that good luck went with it ; 
and strange to say in all the bloody and fright- 
ful combats he fought, neither he nor his horse was 
ever wounded. He always carried a Bible with him 
— it was on his person in battle, and the reading of 
it constituted his chief delight. He made no secret 



DKOUOT. 163 

of this among the staff of the Emperor, which showed - 
more courage than to face a batterj. He knew 
everything belonging to his profession, and yet was 
modest as the most humble. His character seemed 
to be affected by the life he led, in a remarkable 
degree. Its solidity, the absence of all show and the 
presence of real strength, his quiet and grave de- 
meanor, and the steadfastness of his affection and 
purpose, reminded one of the solidity and strength of 
his artillery. 

In I^apoleon's advance to Dresden, and passage of 
the Elbe at that place, an incident occurred that illus- 
trates the characters of both. After bridges of rafts 
had been constructed, and a small portion of the 
troops got over during the night time, JSTapoleon saw 
fifty cannon of the enemy advance, and threaten a 
determined resistance to the passage. He imme- 
diately shouted to Drouot, " a hundred pieces of 
cannon !" The artillery of the Guard was hurried up, 
and Drouot posted them on the heights of Preisnitz. 
IlTapoleon, w^ho was a little distance in the rear, was 
impatient, because the effect of the fire was not im- 
mediately visible, and re]3roached the former bitterly 
for not placing his pieces better, even pulling the old 
soldier's ears in his pet. Drouot calmly replied, 
" that the guns could not be better placed ;" and so it 
proved, for under the tremendous fire which he kept 
up, the Russian batteries were soon silenced. 



164: THE OLD GUAED. 

At the battle of Bautzen, whidi soon followed, 
Drouot's artillery scourged the enemy severely while 
the Old Guard itself sustained the grand attack in the 
centre, by which the victory was gained. Its squares 
surrounded the tent of I^apoleon that evening, while 
its bands of music greeted him with victorious airs. 

By daybreak next morning the pursuit was com- 
menced, and pushed with the utmost fierceness. The 
allies had marched all night, but their rear-guard 
was soon overtaken, posted on strong heights, with 
forty pieces of cannon. ISTapoleon dared not attack 
it till the cavalry of the Guard should arrive. This 
body of men, six thousand strong, no sooner ap- 
proached than it was put under Latour Maubourg, 
and advancing, overthrew the Russian cavalry in the 
plains, and rushing with loud shouts up the slopes 
of the heights, forced the enemy to retreat. 

The defeated allies, however, retired in such good 
order, that no decisive blow could be struck, and 
l^apoleon, enraged to see a great victory turn out so 
barren of results, pushed forward with his escort to 
give greater energy to the attacks, and was still 
pressing on amid the cannon-balls that were whistling 
about him, when one of his escort was struck at his 
side. He turned to Duroc and said, " fortune is 
resolved to have one of us to-day" — prophetic words 
— a few moments after, as he was going along a nar- 
row way, followed by his escort four abreast on 



DEATH OF DUEOC. 165 

a rapid trot, a cannon-ball struck a tree near him, 
glanced and killed Kugener, and mortally wounded 
Duroc. "When this was announced to ^Napoleon, he 
dismounted, and gazed long and sternly on the bat- 
tery from which the shot had been fired, then entered 
the cottao:e into which the Grand Marshal had been 
carried and where he lay dying. 

This scene I have described in another work, 
but I will quote from that description the portion 
which illustrates the relation that existed between 
]^apoleon and his Guard. " After the last afflicting 
interview with the dying hero and friend, he ordered 
his tent to be pitched near the cottage where he lay, 
and entering it, passed the night all alone in incon- 
solable grief. The Old Guard formed their pro- 
tecting squares about him, and the fierce tumult of 
battle gave way to one of the most touching scenes in 
history. Twilight was deepening over the field, and 
the heavy tread of the ranks going to their bivouacs, 
the low rumbling of artillery wagons in the dis- 
tance, and all the subdued sounds of a mighty 
host about sinking to repose rose on the evening air, 
imparting still greater solemnity to the hour. ISTapo- 
leon with his grey coat wrapped about him, his 
elbows on his knees, and his forehead resting on his 
hands, sat apart from all, buried in the profoundest 
melancholy. His most intimate friends dared not 
approach him, and his favorite officers stood in 



166 THE OLD gua:rd. 

groups at a distance, gazing anxiously and sadly on 
that silent tent. But immense consequences were 
hanging on the movements of the next morning — a 
powerful enemy was near with its array yet un- 
broken — and they at length ventured to approach and 
ask for orders. But he only shook his head, exclaim- 
ing ' everything to-morrow,' and still kept his mourn- 
ful attitude. 'No sobs escaped him, but silent and 
motionless he sat, his pallid face buried in his hands, 
and his great heart wrung with agony. Darkness 
drew her curtain over the scene, and the stars came 
out one after another in the sky, and at length the 
moon rose over the hills, bathing in her soft beams 
the tented host, while the flames from burning villages 
in the distance, shed a lurid light through the gloom, 
and all was sad, mournful, and sublime. There was 
the dark cottage in which Duroc lay dying, with the 
sentinels at the door, and there, too, was the solitary 
tent of luTapoleon. Around it at a distance, stood the 
squares of the Old Guard, and nearer by a silent group 
of chieftains, and over all lay the moonlight. Those 
brave soldiers, filled with grief to see their beloved 
chief bowed down with such sorrow, stood for a lono^ 
time tearful and silent, except as one would say to his 
comrade, ' Our poor Emperor has lost one of his chil- 
dren.' At length, to break the mournful silence, and to 
express the sympathy they might not speak, the bands 
struck up a requiem for the dying Marshal. The 



GRIEF OF NAPOLEON. 167 

melancliolj strains arose and fell in prolonged echoes 
over the field, and swept in softened cadences on the 
ear of the fainting warrior — but still ISTapoleon moved 
not. They then changed the measure to a trium- 
phant strain, and the thrilling trumpets breathed forth 
their most joyful notes, till the night rung with the 
melody. With such bursts of music had they been 
used to welcome their chief after a day of battle and 
of victory, till his eye kindled in exultation — but now 
they fell on a dull and listless ear. It ceased, and 
again the mournful requiem filled the air. But 
nothing could arouse him from his agonizing reflec- 
tions — his friend lay dying, and the heart he loved so 
dearly was throbbing its last pulsations." 

This scene exhibits in a touching manner the sym- 
pathy that existed between ISTapoleon and his Guard, 
— and how heroically, yet how tenderly, was it here 
expressed. Enfolding him in their rock-fast squares, 
their hearts melted at the sorrow of him they protected, 
and the trumpets that but an hour before heralded 
their desperate charge, strove to impart consolation by 
expressing the grief they dare utter in no other way. 
And then the thrilling blast upon blast, and loud 
exultant greeting, to rouse that overwhelmed heart 
from its stupor, and rekindle the emotions that were 
wont to sway it — how simple, yet how grand. 

At length Kapoleon entered Dresden, and an armis- 
tice was agreed upon. It ended, however, without any 



168 THE OLD GUASD. 

result, except to send Austria over to the side of the 
allies, l^apoleon now had Knssia, Prussia, Austria, 
Sweden, and Bohemia, combined against him, still he 
evinced no discouragement. Looking calmly around 
on the difficulties that environed him, he prepared to 
meet them with that genius and iron will before 
which the sovereigns who sought his life, had so often 
humbled themselves. 

But prior to his departure from Dresden, he had a 
grand review of his army, which took place in a vast 
plain near the city. Accompanied by the King of 
Saxony and his suite and the Marshals of the Empire, 
he galloped the whole length of the line. As the 
Guard, twenty thousand strong, defiled before him, 
it seemed to carry the jorestige of victory in its terri- 
ble standards. He then ordered a great banquet for 
the whole of the Guard. 

At the commencement of hostilities, Marmont, 
Macdonald, and l^ey, who were in Bohemia, were 
compelled to retire before the superior force of th© 
4inemy. "When the news of the successive disasters 
of these marshals reached l^apoleon, he took with him 
the Old Guard, and hastened to their relief. Infantry, 
cavalry, and artillery, went thundering through the 
Bohemian Mountains ; and pouring like a torrent on 
the victorious enemy, rolled them back through the 
Silesian plains. In five days the Old Guard recovered 
all that had been lost. 



EXTEAORDmAEY MARCH. 169 

But while the prospects were brightening around 
him in Bohemia, a dark and ominous storm was 
gathering over Dresden. -St. Cjr with only thirty 
thousand men, had been left in possession of this city, 
against which the emperor believed no attack would 
be made. But suddenly a hundred and twenty thou- 
sand men and five hundred pieces of artillery dark- 
ened the heights around it. Couriers were hur- 
riedly despatched to ISTapoleon, announcing the 
fact, who immediately put forth one of those pro- 
digious efforts to save it, for which he was remark- 
able. He took with him his conquering Guard, 
and set out for the city. Although for four days it 
had marched on an average, twenty-five miles a day, 
fighting its passage besides, and slain six thousand 
men, it cheerfully turned its steps towards Dresden. 
Men gazed with astonishment on its swift movement. 
Although it was the month of August and the soldiers 
were worn out with their previous marches and com- 
bats, they swept forward with alacrity. Daybreak 
found them on the road, and night still in motion. 
Napoleon in their midst was devoured with the most 
painful anxiety. Knowing that the city could hold 
out but. a short time against the overwhelming force 
gathered around it, he urged his faithful troops to 
their utmost speed. He wanted to give that Guard 
wings to transport it to Dresden. Breathless couriers 
dashing in one after another, telling him that if he 
8 



ITO THE OLD GTTAED. 

did not arrive soon all would be lost, added to liis 
impatience. 

The troops had marched /br^^y l&<^9'^es m four days, 
and seemed about to break down. ]!*^apoleon saw 
that he had overtasked them, and fearing they 
would give out altogether, ordered twenty thousand 
bottles of wine to be distributed among them. 
Three thousand, however, were all that could be 
obtained. Refreshed by this scanty supply, they 
pressed forward, and at length from the heights that 
overlooked the city, gazed down on the thrilling 
spectacle. The two hosts were engaged, and the 
thunder of cannon rolled in heavy explosions over 
the hills. Columns of attack were already forming, 
and the innumerable array was swiftly closing around 
their comrades who were bravely bearing up against 
the shock. The Old Guard at once forgot their weari- 
ness at the sight — they saw their presence had never 
before been so urgently needed, and with proud hearts 
they thought how soon their eagles would be soaring 
over that tumultuous field, and their dread standards 
waving above a beaten foe. Like a resistless torrent 
they passed down the slopes and crowded swiftly for- 
ward over the bridges. The inhabitants, overjoyed at 
the sight of these renowned troops, rushed toward them 
with wine and bread — and though the wearied sol- 
diers were parched with thirst, each and all refused the 
proffered refreshments, and marched steadily and 



AEEIVES IN DRESDEN. 171 

swiftly on to the point of danger. They were soon 
standing side by side with their comrades who had 
combated so bravely, and with them breasting the 
tremendous storm of shells and shot that now delnged 
the city, they held that proud army in check till the 
arrival of the Young Guard. 

The Old Guard entered the city at ten in the morning, 
and had fought all day with desperate valor to arrest 
the enemy, which, notwithstanding, made fearful 
progress. Some parts of the city were already inun- 
dated with their victorious troops ; and at six o'clock, 
their cannon played within musket-shot of the 
walls. The arrival of the Young Guard at that hour 
drove the cloud from ]^apoleon's brow, and filled 
every heart with joy. He immediately ordered an 
attack. The gates were thrown open, and the Young 
Guard, under Ney, poured forth and rushing with 
loud cheers on the enemy, drove them back over the 
field. The Old Guard through another gate crushed 
everything in its passage, while Murat's splendid 
cavalry completed the discomfiture, and sent the 
astonished enemy back to the heights from which 
they had just descended in all the pride of victory, 
shouting, " to Paris^ to Paris^'' as they came. The 
commanders who supposed the emperor was in Silesia, 
gazed with amazement at the Old Guard, and said 
one to another, " ^N'apoleon is in Dresden." 

The next morning at six o'clock, ISTapoleon was 



172 THE OLD GUAED. 

standing by a huge fire built in the squares of the 
Old Guard on the field they had won, while a cold 
and drizzling rain and mist darkened the ghastly 
scene. Behind, the cavalry of the Guard dismounted, 
Btood beside their horses, ready at a moment's warn- 
ing to dash to any part of the field. 

^Napoleon standing on that ploughed and dead- 
covered plain in the grey of the morning, in his plain 
overcoat, the steam arising like a cloud around his 
head as he dried himself beside the blazing fire, his 
hands crossed behind him, and his head bowed in deep 
thouo^ht, the Old Guard around him, the riders beside 
their steeds ready at a gesture to mount and charge — 
yet all quiet as a domestic scene — not a muscle on 
that marble countenance moving, although the heavy 
roll of cannon from one end of the line to the other, 
announced that the work of death had commenced, 
presents one of the most striking and sublime specta- 
cles in history. 

In the battle that followed, Ney had command of 
the Young Guard, and again carried it in headlong 
valor on the enemy. It was a battery of the Guard 
that ITapoleon, during the da}^, ordered to fire on a 
group which he took to be officers reconnoitring his 
pesition, and at the first discharge of which, Moreau 
fell. 

The effects of this great victory, however, were 
lost by the almost simultaneous disasters that befel 



AT LEIPSIC. 173 

the divisions of Macdonald in Silesia, Oudinot at 
Gros Beeren, Marshal JSTey at Dennewitz, and above 
all, of Yandamme at Toeplitz. Napoleon, with the 
Old Guard, could not be everywhere, and while with 
inferior force he was dealing terrible blows on por- 
tions of the allied army, his lieutenants lacking his 
genius, were defeated on every side. At this time 
too, Bavaria went over to the ranks of the allies. 
ISTapoleon, however, did all that man can do. With 
his tireless unconquerable Guard, he turned first on 
one side and then on the other, scattering the enemy 
from his path. But no sooner did he withdraw from 
the pursuit of one division to chastise another, than the 
former closed fiercely on his retiring columns. Thus 
in almost a circle of armies, he continued to battle 
bravely for victory, but at last was forced to retire 
to Leipsic, where, having concentrated his troops, he 
resolved to stake all on one great battle. 

THE OLD GTJAED AT LEIPSIC. 

This was a hazardous move, for the allied powers 
could bring into the field nearly three hundred thou- 
sand men, and thirteen hundred cannon, while he 
had but a little more than half that force with which 
to meet them. The preparations for the battle were 
on the grandest scale, and when the two armies 
finally stood in array against each other, the most 



1Y4: THE OLD GFAKD. 

casual observer could see that the day foreboded a 
gloomy termination for I^apoleon. 

At midnight the night before, rockets sent up to an 
amazing height from the head-quarters of the allied 
army, and answered by others from Blucher on the 
north, told that all was ready ; and early in the 
morning the earthquake commenced, and nearly two 
thousand cannon exploded on ranks of living men. 
Notwithstanding his inferiority of force, JSTapoleon's 
star seemed still in the ascendant, and his victorious 
eagles soared as of old over the smoke and tumult of 
the fight. 'Near the close of the day he deemed the 
victory secure, and ordered up the Young Guard, 
supported by the Old, to make his favorite attack on 
the centre, and finish the battle. The stern Drouot, 
with sixty cannon, moved in front, clearing a space 
for the column pressing after, and their advancing 
fire soon showed that the allied centre was' shaken 
to its overthrow. The enemy seeing their centre in 
such extreme peril, brought up reserve after reserve, 
and battery after battery, and thousands of cavalry, 
and closed around those devoted troops. Yet the 
batteries of Drouot blazed on like a volcano. The 
heavy cuirassiers plunged boldly after, and the 
advance columns approached so far that they came 
near taking the Emperor Alexander and the king of 
Prussia prisoners, who were forced to mount and 
retire. But this invincible corps, after performing 



ITS EFFORTS AT LEIPSIC. 175 

prodigies of valor, was at length compelled to halt, 
and night shut in the scene. 

JSTapoleon pitched his tent in the bed of a dried 
fish-pond in the centre of the thinned squares of the 
Old Guard. 

The next day the battle opened gloomily for the 
French, for a hundred thousand fresh troops had 
joined the allies during the night, making an over- 
whelming preponderance of force. Still l^apo- 
leon showed a bold front, and strove with almost 
superhuman efforts to alter the decree written against 
him. Early in the day the brave Poniatowshy, after 
struggling nobly to retain his position, was finally 
driven back by superior numbers, l^apoleon imme- 
diately hastened to the spot with two divisions of the 
Guard, and with one terrible blow stopped the ad- 
vancino- columns. 

Soon after, news was brought that Yictor and Lau- 
riston, though fighting like lions, were on the point 
of beino; annihilated. With the two remaining divi- 
sions of the Guard he hastened to their relief. The 
field was covered with fugitives, and the scene of 
confusion that met his eye was enough to fill the 
boldest heart with dismay. But amid the thunder of 
artillery, the shouts of enraged men, and disorder 
around him, his brow bore a calm and serene aspect. 
Takino; two battalions of the Guard, he cleared a 
path through the broken masses and hurled* them 



176 THE OLD GUAED. 

with such awful violence on the advancing enemy, 
that they were broken in turn, and compelled to 
relinquish the ground they had so gallantly won. 

The superiority of the allies could not make head 
against the obstinacy of Napoleon, for wherever the 
battle shook, there he plunged with his Guard and 
dealt such blows as it only could deal. But at this 
critical state of affairs still more alarming news was 
brought to him. His Saxon allies to the number of 
twelve thousand, with forty pieces of cannon, suddenly 
went over to the enemy. Thus not only in the crisis 
of the battle was the important point they held 
deserted, but a difference of twenty-four thousand 
men and eighty pieces of cannon, made to the French. 
l!^ot content with their treason, no sooner did they 
reach the enemy's lines than they turned their bat- 
teries on the friends by whose side they had just 
stood. 

It seemed as if fate having no compassion for his 
gallant bearing, was determined to push I^apoleoa 
to the verge of despair. The news of this defection 
startled him, for Schoenfield, lying close to the suburbs 
of Leipsic, was now threatened, and thus his whole line 
of retreat endangered. He instantly took a division 
of the Young Guard and Nansouty's cuirassiers and 
hastened to the spot, and arrested the further progress 
of the enemy — but he saw a retreat was inevitable. 

I will not describe this horrible retreat, nor the appear* 



BATTLE OF HAN ATT. 177 

ance of a field on whicli a hundred and twenty thou- 
sand men had fallen. The Old and Young Guard 
had maintained their character on these two dreadful 
days, and its dead lay on every part of that field. 
The infantry were exposed throughout to the most 
tremendous fire. Its artillery, notwithstanding its 
numerical inferiority, was worked with terrible power, 
while the cavalry charged as only the cuirassiers of 
the Guard could charge — but its bravery and devotion 
only swelled the carnage — the defection of the Bava- 
rians ruined every thing. 

BATTLE OF HANAU. 

Napoleon was now compelled to commence his dis- 
astrous retreat towards the Ehine. Outstripping his 
pursuers, he was approaching that river and the soil 
of France, when he received the astonishing news 
that General "Wrede, his old ally, with fifty thou- 
sand Bavarians, had crossed his line of march and 
strongly posted at Hanau, w^as determined to finish 
the wreck of Leipsic. The French army, with the 
exception of the Guard, Old and Young, was a herd 
of stragglers. For nearly two hundred miles they 
had dragged their w^eary limbs towards the Khine, 
harassed at every step by the Cossacks, and now, 
just as the soil of France was to welcome them, a fresh 
and powerful army unexpectedly crossed their path. 

When this was told ISTapoleon, he simply said, 
8* 



178 THE OLD GUARD. 

'' Advance ; since these Bavarian gentlemen pretend 
to bar our passage, we must pass over their bellies." 
The Bavarians were posted in front of Hanau, stretch- 
ing across the road, along w^hich the French army 
was marching. Their centre was supported by sev- 
enty pieces of cannon, while between them and the 
approaching fugitives, stretched a forest several miles 
in extent. This was filled with sharp-shooters to 
retard the French, while the seventy cannon in bat- 
tery were to receive them as they debouched on the 
farther side. Macdonald's and Victor's corps reduced 
to five thousand men, first entered the forest and 
cleared it, but the moment they attempted to form 
in the open field beyond, they were rent into frag- 
ments by the balls of those seventy guns, all 
trained on that devoted spot. Reinforcements kept 
arriving, but every efibrt was powerless to cross the 
plain in front of the forest. It was a wild hailstorm 
of balls in point-blank range, and the soldiers melted 
away before it like men of snow. It was then that 
l^apoleon galloping up to his Guard ordered two bat- 
talions of foot chasseurs to clear the field, while at 
the same time he directed Drouot to advance with 
the artillery of the Guard. " Eemember," said he, 
" that on this very spot the French Guards under 
Louis XIY., were defeated and thrown into the river. 
Let the enemy to-day receive the same fate, and 
France be avenged." 



deouot's GTTisrs. 1T9 

For four hours Yictor and Macdonald had vainly 
endeavored to bear up against the tremendous force 
that opposed them, and now the weary troops shouted 
for joy when they saw the bearskin caps of the old 
grenadiers enter the forest. Those black caps swept 
on like a wave through the green foliage — a line of 
flame marking their passage. As in the retreat from 
Moscow, no calamity however great, not even the 
pangs of famine, could shake their constancy — so now, 
after a weary flight of two hundred miles, they were 
the same as in the flush of victory. The oaks rent 
around them before the cannon balls that crashed on 
every side — the huge limbs falling on their ranks, 
striking down many a brave man — ^but they pressed 
sternly on, cleared the wood, and soon won a part 
of the plain Yictor and Macdonald had struggled for 
so many hours to obtain. In the open space they 
had thus snatched from the enemy, Drouot swiftly 
advanced with his trusty guns. At first with fifteen 
he opened his fire, then with fifteen more, then twenty, 
and so on till fifty played with all the rapidity and 
fearful accuracy which made the artillery of the Guard 
BO formidable. He was in point-blank range, and the 
seventy pieces of the enemy gave them a superiority 
he must make up by rapidity of firing. It was terrific 
to see those hundred and twenty cannon concen- 
trated on so narrow a space, and in such close 
range, exploding on each other. The guns of the 



180 THE OLD GUARD. 

Guard seemed to move in fire, so rapidly were they 
discharged, while the accuracy of aim soon told with 
fearful effect on the enemy. 

In the midst of the volleys a large body of Bavarian 
cavalry suddenly precipitated themselves on the bat- 
teries of Drouot. The cannoneers seized their car- 
bines — and now with the bayonet, and now with their 
pieces clubbed, stretched them around their guns. 
At this moment the cavalry of the Guard were seen 
debouching in dark and imposing masses from the 
forest. "Wrede saw the gathering tempest that was 
about to burst upon him, and rallying his cavalry, 
and throwing his infantry into squares behind the 
Russian dragoons, awaited the shock. The bugles 
sounded the charge and breaking into a trot, then into 
a gallop, those thundering squadrons fell on infantry, 
cavalry, and artillery with such resistless violence 
that the whole left wing of the army was swept from 
the plain. Wrede then threw forward his right and 
made a desperate effort to regain the ground he had 
lost. The troops advanced gallantly, and the artillery 
approached so near that the opposing gunners could 
hear each other's voices. The scene then became 
indescribably fearful. It was one stream of light- 
ning and peal of thunder through all the green alleys 
of the forest. The huge tops of the oaks swung to 
and fro and roared in the blast made by the balls as 
though a storm was sweeping over them. Giant 



WINS THE BATTLE. 181 

branches were hurled through the air, and all amid 
the leafy recesses were seen charging columns and 
exploding batteries, and crowds of carriages and 
wagons, and a multitude of fugitives. In the centre 
of this forest was I^apoleon walking to and fro in the 
road, listening with the deepest anxiety to the uproar 
around him, and conversing at intervals with Caulin- 
court. Defeat here he knew would be irretrievable 
ruin, for he would be driven back upon his pursu- 
ers, and crushed between two armies. "While such 
painful thoughts were crowding his bosom a bomb 
fell in the ditch beside him, the fuse still burn- 
ing. He paid no attention to it, and Caulincourt 
placing himself between it and the emperor, they 
continued their conversation as before. The officers 
of his staff looked on in amazement and held their 
breath in terror, but the shell had sunk so deep in 
the mire that it was extinguished before it had time 
to burst. 

The firing in the forest becoming still heavier, 
Kapoleon ordered two battalions of the Old Guard to 
advance, which charging almost on a run, overthrew 
everything in their passage, and forced the enemy 
into a precipitate retreat. This brave corps never 
behaved with greater intrepidity. A Captain Godau, 
at the head of only two companies, charged and over- 
threw several battalions of the Bavarians. Two 



182 THE OLD GUARD. 

chasseurs threw themselves in the tumult on the 
ranks of the enemy, and bore away each a standard. 
General Cambronne spurred all alone like Murat into 
the midst of the fray. Three soldiers seeing him 
dash forward, rushed after him — ^one of them snatch- 
ing the banner of a guide from the very heart of a 
Bavarian battalion. The gunners fought with unpa- 
ralleled heroism, and this " Column of granite" again 
showed itself worthy of the name it bore. It alone 
opened the road to the army, and saved it from utter 
annihilation. 

That night, by the side of a blazing fire, in the 
heart of the forest, l^apoleon bivouacked in the midst 
of his exhausted squares. He said afterwards that 
at Hanau he had not merely won a victory, but had 
carried a breach. 

In this battle Wrede lost a fifth of his army, and 
Europe learned for the hundredth time the danger 
of attempting to stop the advance of the adamantine 
columns of the Old Guard. 

"With saddened hearts they defiled over the Rhine, 
and bid a final adieu to the scene of their achieve- 
ments. Behind them lay Jena, Austerlitz, Wagram, 
Eylau, and a host of fields where their iron ranks had 
borne down everything that opposed them and their 
eagles soared in triumph — never to be revisited. On 
the soil of beloved France — by their own hearthstones 



EETUKNS TO PARIS. 183 

they were now to show to the world examples of 
heroism unequalled in the annals of w^ar. 

J^apoleon returned to Paris w^ith a part of the 
Guard, to prepare for the inundation of his empire by 
nearly a million of men. 



CHAPTEK XI. 
1814. 

CAMPAIGN OF THE GTJAED. 

Napoleon with Europe against him — Care of his Guard — The Guard at Eothiere — 
Captain Hauillet — Terrible cross march to attack Blucher— Yictory of Champs 
d'Aubert — The Old Guard at Montmirail — Its victory — Its protracted marches 
and battles — Overthrow of Blucher— Eeturn of the Guard to the help of Victor 
and Oudinot — Its last battles and marches— Desertion of Napoleon by his frieuils 
at his abdication — Faithfulness of the Guard — The parting scene at Fontainbleau 
— The Guard by the side of its foes — Its bearing and aspect. 

At the close of the year 1813, I^apoleon presented a 
sad yet sublime spectacle. His first words on enter- 
ing the senate, after his return from the disasters of 
Leipsic, were, " A year ago all Europe marched with 
us — to-day all Europe marches against us." From 
the vast height of power to which he had reached, he 
had descended step by step, battling bravely as he 
went. Deserted by his allies, betrayed by the men 
he had covered with honor, his dominions wrested 
one by one from his grasp, his brothers dethroned, 
and his own brother-in-law openly proclaiming his 



ETJEOPE AGAmST NAPOLEON. 185 

treason, some of the heaviest blows he received com- 
ing from the hands of those whose fortunes he had 
made, his army in fragments, his treasury exhausted, 
while the bayonets of nearly a million of men were 
pointing towards Paris, he yet showed no discourage- 
ment, uttered no complaints, but calm and resolute 
stood and surveyed the vast and dismaying prospect 
as he was wont to do a doubtful battle-field. He was 
grander in his great misfortunes than when with 
Europe pressing after his standard, he two years 
before crossed the Memen in all the pomp and pride 
of a conqueror. 

To replenish the treasury, to create an army, to awe 
the turbulent, and then stand up single-handed against 
Europe in arms — these were the tasks before him. 
He set the first example of self-sacrifice, by giving 
into the public treasury six millions of d.ollars taken 
from his private vaults in the Tuileries. 

A decree ordering a levy of 300,000 soldiers was 
made, and another augmenting the Guard to 112,500 
men. Dm-ing January of this year he issued no less 
than five decrees concerning his Guard. He seemed 
to be more solicitous about it than ever before. In 
the disasters of the last two years he had felt its value 
more than in the full tide of victory. He had fallen 
back on it again and again in the hour of utmost 
peril, and always found it a "column of granite.'^ 
Though its charge on the enemy's centre at Leipsic 



186 THE OLD GTJAED. 

, "was not successful as at Wagram and other fields 
of its fame, jet it never made a nobler charge or 
showed more dauntless bravery. Treason and over- 
whelming numbers wrested the victory from its 
eagles. - 

The levy, however, was . not successful. France 
was exhausted not only of her men, but even of her 
youth, and boys were now in his greatest need to 
form his battalions. To add to his trouble, as for- 
tune always seems to delight in pushing down a fall- 
ing favorite, the Typhus fever broke out among his 
troops along the Rhine. They had caught it in the 
plains of Germany, and these veterans who had 
fallen back from the different fortresses and cities 
which they held were swept off by thousands. 

Thus he was deprived of a large number of the few 
experienced soldiers the disasters of the last year had 
left him. ITotwithstanding all this and the appalling 
aspect of a million of men rising up and swearing to 
complete his overthrow — seven hundred thousand of 
them sweeping steadily down upon the soil of France, 
their bayonets pointing towards his capital — he stood 
nobly at bay. Having entrusted his wife and son to 
the IS'ational Guard in a speech full of feeling, he bade 
them adieu, little dreaming it was to be a final one, 
and set out for head-quarters at Chalons. 

It was in the latter part of January that he reached 
the shattered and discouraged army, falling back on 



ITS GREAT CAMPAIGN. 187 

every side before the enemy. Rallying it by bis 
presence, be immediately took tbe offensive and sur- 
prised Blucber witb tbirty tbonsand men near Brienne. 
Tbe latter, bowever, made a stubborn resistance, and 
tbe advance guard of the French was forced to retire, 
when eight thousand of tbe Old Guard arrived and 
cleared the field. Blucber, bowever, rallied bis troops 
behind bis formidable artillery, and prepared to give 
battle on the following morning. Mortier who bad 
made this bold irruption, fell back to wait the arrival 
of the main body, toiling up through mud and snow 
into which the artillery sank at every step, made 
but slow progress. A Captain Hauillet, with a sin- 
gle company of tbe foot chasseurs of the Old Guard, 
was appointed to cover this retrograde movement. 
But soon after be bad taken his position, an over- 
whelming force of Austrians suddenly came upon 
him. There seemed no escape to this devoted little 
band — but they were a part of tbe Old Guard, and 
if they fell, it would be like the Spartan band in 
Thermopylae. Their heroic officer immediately con- 
centrated his few soldiers and calling together the 
drummers he ordered the chasseurs not to fire, but 
to advance witb the bayonet. The charge was then 
beaten and at the bead of only a hundred and fifty 
men, he flung himself with such desperate energy 
on the five thousand Austrians advancing against 



188 THE OLD GrAED. 

him, that he broke then' ranks in pieces, and put them 
to flight. 

The battle of Brienne followed, and although the 
columns of the Old and Young Guard pressed for- 
ward amid the driving snow against the batteries,' 
and stood firm under repeated charges of cavalry and 
infantry, yet they could not wring victory from the 
enemy. The constantly increasing forces of the allies 
rendered their numerical superiority so great that 
ITapoleon at night ordered a retreat, lie fell back 
to Troyes, and three days after to ISTogent. 

In the meantime the allied army divided. The 
Austrians following up Napoleon, were to march on 
Paris by way of Montereau down the valley of the 
Seine, while Blucher with the army of Silesia was to 
move upon Chalons, and descend by the Marne to 
the capital. The latter, full of energy and decision, 
was the antagonist first to be disposed of — for sweep- 
ing over the country without opposition, driving the 
affrighted peasants in crowds before him, he marched 
so rapidly towards Paris that the inhabitants were 
filled with terror. 

Crippled for want of soldiers, ITapoleon was una- 
ble to resist both of these formidable arrays at once, 
and resolved therefore to leave Yictor and Oudinot 
with a small portion of the troops to check, as long 
as possible, the slow and methodical advance of the 
Austrians, and with the elite of the army, dash 



A WINTER MARCH. 189 

across the country and inflict a sudden and terrible 
blow on Blucher. The latter knew that Kapoleon 
was on his left, but this gave him no disquietude, for 
the head-quarters of the emperor were thirty miles 
distant, and the cross-roads were nothing but beds of 
mortar through which it would be impossible for him 
to drag his artillery. Besides, he had on his hands 
the allied army vastly superior to his own even undi- 
vided, and he would not dare leave it an open road 
to Paris. But a desperate condition requires despe- 
rate measures, and the advantage to J^apoleon of the 
foolish dislocation of the invading army was too 
great to be neglected. So on the 9th of February he 
started from !N"ogent, and at night was half way to 
Blucher. But such was the state of the roads, that 
it required the most extraordinary exertions to com- 
plete those fifteen miles. The artillery carriages 
rolled along up to their axles in mud, the cavalry 
floundered on, while the foot soldiers could scarcely 
force their way. !N^ext morning, after entering the 
forest of Traconne the roads became still worse, the 
cannon stuck fast in the clay, and the drivers declar- 
ing it was impossible to extricate them, Marmont, 
who commanded the advance, wheeled about. When 
the state of things was reported to E'apoleon, he said, 
" The passage must be made even though the cannon 
are left behind." He would have been compelled to 
make this sacrifice of his guns, if the mayor of Bar- 



190 THE OLD GUARD. 

bonne liad not at his command fnrnislied five hundred 
horses, by which thej were at length pulled out. 

Early on the morning of the 10th, the troops were 
all reunited, with the exception of a division of 
mounted grenadiers of the Guard which could not get 
through, the army in advance had so cut up and en- 
cumbered the road. 

In the meantime Marmont heading still the ad- 
vance, ascended at nine o'clock the heights that over- 
look the valley of Petit Morin, and saw with delight 
a corps of 5000 Prussians below him ; the soldiers 
unconscious of danger, quietly preparing their break- 
fast. 'No sooner did the Emperor's eye take in the 
w^elcome spectacle, than he ordered a general attack^ 
and a butchery and rout followed. The Prussian 
General with nearly the whole corps was taken. By 
this grand stroke he had cut the allied army in two, 
and could turn on whichever he liked. 

The next morning at five o'clock, l^apoleon was on 
horseback, hurrying on his weary troops to Montmirail 
to intercept Sacken, another of Blucher's generals, 
who, astounded at this sudden apparition of the 
French Emperor on his flanks, was making all haste 
to join his commander. But the Old Guard proved 
too quick for him, the infantry had left the field of 
battle where they had bivouacked an hour before 
daylight, and preceded by the mounted chasseurs, 
reached Montmirail, as Sacken was approaching it. 



THE FIELD OF BATTLE. 191 

Tli'e latter, to whom this town, lying as it did directly 
in his path, was of vital importance, immediately 
commenced an attack. Being superior in numbers, 
he was able to maintain the fight for five hours with- 
out losing ground. At length, as night approached, 
sixteen battalions of the Old Guard arrived, under 
Friant. These were immediately formed into a sin- 
gle column, each battalion a hundred steps from the 
other, and ordered to advance full on the enemy's 
centre. At the same time Mortier arrived with six- 
teen other battalions of the Young Guard, six of 
which took their station on the right of Friant, to 
sustain the attack of the Old Guard. Sacken had 
forty cannon placed so as to command the approaches 
to his central position, while a triple row of tirail- 
leurs sustained by battalions of infantry, lined the 
hedo^es on either side. On these murderous batteries 
and over these formidable obstacles the Old Guard 
led by E'ey, advanced. Napoleon himself gave the 
signal of attack, and those resolute veterans charged 
on a run over the farm of Haute Epine. The com- 
bat was frightful — Sacken was fighting for life — I^a- 
poleon for his empire. The Prussians were deter- 
mined to be cut down to a man rather than yield, and 
the Old Guard for once seemed to have charged a 
rock — but at this moment I^apoleon ordered the 
lancers, dragoons, and mounted grenadiers, to gain 
the rear and fall suddenly on the shattered masses 



192 THE OLD GIJAED. 

of the enemy. As they defiled past him he said, 
" Brave yonng men, there is the enemy, will you allow 
him to march to Paris ?" Shaking their sabres above 
their heads, they exclaimed, " We will not," and 
rending the air with shouts, broke into a geJlop, and 
falling with irresistible power on the hitherto steady 
ranks,^trampled them under their horses' hoofs. The 
rout was complete, and but the mere debris of the 
army escaped by a disorderly flight through the fields. 

ISTight had now arrived, and Napoleon commanded 
the rally to be sounded in ofder to rest his exhausted 
troops for the next day's efforts. He slept in a farm- 
house on some straw from which the enemy's wounded 
had just been removed, while four thousand men lay 
dead or dying around him. The next morning the 
reveille beat before daybreak, and JSTapoleon at the 
head of his tireless Guard started in pursuit. Eight 
Prussian battalions which did not arrive till too late 
to take part in the battle, covered Sacken's retreat. 
As the French approached, these battalions advanced 
to meet them, but a battalion of the Old Guard drove 
in the tirailleurs, while six other battalions fell on 
them in front. At the same time the dragoons of 
the Guard came thundering on, breaking through the 
first and second lines, and putting all to flight. 

The enemy lost two thousand more during the re- 
treat of this day. 

In the meantime, Blucher, who was at Yirtus, had 



DEFEAT OF BLUCHEK. 193 

been informed of the sudden apparition of ITapoleon 
among his divided corps by the disasters at Champ 
Aubert; and while the fugitives from that fatal field 
were pouring into the streets of the town where he 
lay, he heard the heavy cannonading at Montmirail 
and knew the danger in which Sacken was placed. 
Still he could not march to his relief, for he had but 
few troops with him, and Marmont was watching his 
movements. Besides he was waiting for 4he arrival 
of two corps, which were hastening to join him. At 
length being reinforced, he set out for Montmirail, 
driving Marmont before him. 

Napoleon, as we have seen, had started on the 9th 
across the country, making thirty miles of horrible 
road by the morning of the 10th — having marched all 
night — the same day he gained the battle of Champ 
Aubert, the next, the 11th, he fought and won that 
of Montmirail, the 12th he kept up the pursuit, fight- 
ing as he went, and yet on the night of the 13th, 
hearing that Blncher had advanced to Etoges, he set 
out with his Guard and a portion of his other forces, 
and next morning was marching full on that place. 
Marmont had just evacuated the little village of 
Yaux Champ, fighting bravely as he retired, and was 
retreating along the road to Montmirail, when the 
bear-skin caps and eagles of the Old Guard suddenly 
appeared. The effect was electric. The retreating 

troops halted, and rending the air with the most fran- 
9 



194 



THE OLD GUARD. 



tic hurrahs, demanded to be led against the enemy. 
The Emperor was in their midst, and amid the long 
and deafening shouts of " Vive VEmpereur^'' the 
cavalry went hurrying forward, while the skirmishers 
gave way to the heads of massive columns of in- 
fantry that went rolling on the foe. Marmont's 
squadron of escort charged alone on the Prus- 
sians. Four squadrons of service of J^apoleon fol- 
lowed them. Soon the whole French line was in 
movement, and Blucher was compelled to retreat. 
The road along which he passed was lined with lofty 
elms — in this he placed his artillery, which fired as it 
retired, while the infantry in solid squares moved 
through the fields on either side. On these the cavalry 
of the Guard charged incessantly, mowing them down 
with terrible slaughter. Especially when the enemy 
had passed Janvilliers and debouched into the vast 
open country beyond, the carnage became frightful. 
Drouot with his artillery, strewed the plain with the 
dead, while the cavalry thundered on the shaking 
masses in repeated shocks, carrying away whole regi- 
ments at a time. But for the miry soil in which the 
horse artillery got fastened. Grouchy would have 
taken Blucher with his whole army. As it was, out 
of 20,000 men, he saved less than two thirds. The 
cavalry of the Guard was in constant action during 
this combat, and with Grouchy and his squadrons, 
covered itself with glory. 



ITS GREAT EFFOETS. 195 

That niglit J^apoleon, with the Old Guard, slept 
at Montmirail. 

But though the Guard had now travelled and 
fought six days without intermission, I^apoleon 
started with it in the morning to the help of Yictor 
and Oudinot, whom the allies, after his departure, 
had assailed and driven back almost to the gates of 
Paris. 

It' is painful to witness his gigantic efforts at this 
period, and remember they did not prove success- 
ful. After having by unheard of exertion carried 
his army and artillery across a country considered 
impassable, and' fought and beaten a superior enemy 
five days in succession, he was overrun by couriers 
announcing to him that ITogent had been taken by 
assault, Moret, ITemom^s, and Montargis had fallen, 
that the advanced posts of the enemy were at the 
gat^s of Orleans, and the Cossacks were swarming 
through the forest and palace of Fontainbleau — that 
Auxerre had been captured and the garrison put 
to the sword, and the light troops of the enemy 
were covering the whole plain between the Seine and 
Loire, and that the reserve artillery and heavy bag- 
gage of the army had nearly reached the tages of 
Paris in its flight, filling the inhabitants with con- 
sternation. Such were the tidings that from hour to 
hour reached his^ ears, as he and his devoted Guard 
were pressing so fiercely the army of Blucher. 'No 



196 THE OLD GIJAED. 

wonder lie could not rest. "With one inferior army 
he must fight two, thirty or -forty miles apart. ITo- 
thing but winged troops could do this long. Still his 
courage and will remained unshaken. Leaving Mar- 
mont, Mortier, and Grouchy, to watch Blucher, as he 
had left Yictor and Oudinot to resist the advance of 
the allies, he took with him only his tireless Guard and 
the cuirasseurs, and started to the help of his hard 
pressed lieutenants. The roads were so bad that he 
could not go directly across the country, and he there- 
fore turned aside and plunged into the forest of Brie, 
which he found filled with fugitives, fleeing before 
the enemy. The infantry went by post while the 
cavalry marched day and night for thirty-six hours. 
No troops but the unconquerable Guard could have 
undergone the exertions and labor they had endured 
for six days, and then made this cross march of 
thirty-six hours over almost impassable roads, for the 
sole purpose of attacking a fresh and superior enemy. 

Such deeds as these elevate it above the common 
standard of mortals, and fill the mind with wonder 
and admiration. 

It was high time for Bonaparte to arrive. He had 
sent a despatch to Yictor and Oudinot announcing 
that he would come by the cross-road to Chalons, and 
they were straining every nerve to preserve it open, 
for if once closed by the enemy, it would be out 
of the power of !Napoleon to eflfect a junction with 



FATIGUING MAECH. 197 

them. As the post wagons and other vehicles, con- 
taining the Old Guard, came on a furious gallop 
along this road, preceded by the cavalry, the plain in 
front of them was seen to be covered with clouds of 
smoke, amid which w^ere heard incessant explosions 
of artillerj. Oudinot and Yictor w^ere struggling 
nobly to preserve the road open, but pressed as they 
were by superior numbers, another hour would have 
found it closed and ITapoleon been too late. 

Ahead of all his troops, he dashed forward with 
his escort to where the firing w^as heaviest, and lo, he 
saw before him the whole French army in full re- 
treat. Suddenly the standards of the cuirasseurs 
announcing that the Emperor had come, were seen, 
and then a shout went up like the cry of delirious 
joy. As these tired veterans swej^t onward, bearing 
their stern chieftain in their midst, " Yive VEw^jpe- 
Tev/r''^ rolled from rank to rank, till it died away amid 
the explosions of cannon on the distant plain. The 
retreat was at once stopped along the whole line, 
columns of attack were formed, and the advancing 
enemy checked at all points. 

ISTaj^oleon, satisfied with having effected this, ordered 
a halt, that his over-worked troops might get a little 
rest. The poor fellows who, exhausted as they were, 
would have charged the enemy's batteries without a 
• murmur, glad of a little respite, sunk to sleep on the 
ground where they stood. 



198 THE OLD GUARD. 

The next day ISTapoleon drove the allies from their 
position with great slaughter, and though the Old 
Guard carried its eagles triumphantly as ever, it was 
too exhausted to make a vigorous pursuit, 'by which 
the Bavarians were saved from utter ruin. 

Two days after, February 18th, the battle of Mon- 
tereau was fought. From early in the morning till 
late in the afternoon, Yictor, and afterward Gerard, 
strove gallantly to carry the heights of Surville ; the 
latter again and again leading his men up to the very 
mouths of forty pieces of artillery. But iho sacrifice 
and valor were alike in vain. At length as evening 
approached, l^apoleon came up on a gallop with the 
artillery and cavalry of the Old Guard. Supported 
by its guns, the Guard with loud shouts and resolute 
step, pressed forward, and storming over those flam- 
ing heights, swept them as with a single blow, of 
artillery, infantry, and cavalry, which rolled together 
down in wild confusion u]3on the bridge. Sixty 
pieces of artillery of the Old Guard were then 
placed where the enemy's batteries had been all day 
long vomiting fire on the French columns of attack, 
and concentrated their close and deadly volleys upon 
the masses crowding frantically over the bridge. In 
his eagerness, N^apoleon took charge of a cannon, 
pointing it himself. The cannoneers of the Old 
Guard, covered with powder and smoke, gazed with 
wonder on their Emperor discharging the duties of a 



■qanff. ' /'-i. .'."■ ' in*" 




AXLIES RETREAT. 199 

common gimner, and as the shot of the enemy whis- 
tled around them, thej besought him to retire from 
the danger. They cared not for themselves, they 
were accustomed to the crash of cannon balls, but 
they were filled with alarm to see the messengers of 
death filling the air around their beloved Emperor. 
But he replied gaily, as the light of early days 
flashed over his stern features, " Courage, my friends, 
the bullet which is to kill me is not yet cast." 

The allied army, shattered and bleeding, fled over 
the Seine, and joy and hope filled^ the bosom of 'Nsi- 
poleon. 

But while these extraordinary successes were dis- 
pelling the gloom that overhung the prospects of the 
Emperor, a new cloud was gathering on another por- 
tion of the French frontier. Bernadotte, whose for- 
tunes Napoleon had made, and who, but for him, 
would never have been king of Sweden, whose 
crown the latter at any time could have crushed like 
a shell in his hand ; — this weak-minded, selfish, un- 
grateful Gascon taking it into his conceited head that 
he might become Emperor of France, had entered 
his native country by way of Cologne, and with a 
powerful army was now moving towards Paris. 

Notwithstanding all this, the allied sovereigns were 
filled with terror and dismay at the rapid and terri- 
ble blows Napoleon had inflicted on them, and were 
anxious to come to terms with him before greater dis- 



200 THE OLD GUARD. 

asters should overtake them. "With nearly two hun- 
dred thousand men, they had been scourged and 
humbled by seventy thousand ; Blucher had lost 
twenty thousand, while Kapoleon was weakened by 
not more than four thousand men. The army under 
Schwartzenberg too, within a few days had lost twelve 
thousand — in all nearly half as many men as the 
French Emperor had at any time brought into the 
field. The lion was awake again, and with his Old 
Guard was storming over their batteries and treading 
down their veteran troops as he had done at Jena, 
Austerlitz, and Friedland. They were alarmed, for 
they began to hear again his cannon thundering on 
the gates of their capitals. A treaty was proposed, but 
among other hard conditions which it contained, it re- 
quired Napoleon to abandon all his conquests and 
restore France to the limits of the monarchy under 
Louis XIY. To the former part of the conditions he 
would consent, but to the latter, never. At Frank- 
fort they had offered to let the Rhine form the boun- 
dary of France, and this he was now willing to grant, 
great as the sacrifice was. 

Many have blamed him for not accepting these 
terms, and reposing himself, till with recruited 
strength and means he might again take the field. 
This was the course Austria and Prussia had repeat- 
edly pursued. When his armies were in their capi- 
tals, those monarchs would submit to any terms, 



napoleon's resolution. 201 

inwardly resolved* to violate the most sacred treaties 
the moment an opportunity occurred in which there 
was a prospect of success. Though allies with him 
in the invasion of Russia, they both turned against him 
when the disastrous retreat from Moscow had weak- 
ened his power. But Naj^oleon was as much above 
these sovereigns in magnanimity as he was in genius. 
He would consent to nothing but a solid peace and 
one honorable to himself and the French people, and 
when urged by liis minister, Maret, to yield to neces- 
sity, he made no reply, but taking up a volume of 
Montesquieu, read aloud, " I know nothing more 
magnanimous than the resolution which a monarch 
took who has reigned in our times (Louis XIY.) to 
bury himself under the ruins of his throne rather 
than accept conditions unworthy of a king. He had 
a mind too lofty to descend lower than his fortunes 
had sunk him, he knew well that courage may 
strengthen a crown, but infamy never." Sustained 
by such a lofty resolution, he turned, sombre and stern 
and with an undaunted heart, on his foes. 

It was unfortunate for him that he did not carry 
out his original plan of bringing Eugene from Italy 
to his aid. After his repulse at Rothiere, he sent a 
despatch to him to hasten across the Alps and threaten 
the allies in rear. This would have brought 40,000 
fresh troops into the field, and at a dangerous point to 
the enem.y. But his great successes gave him cour- 
9^ 



202 THE OLD GUAED. 

age, and he countermanded the order. In fact he 
did not consider himself in so much peril as others 
did, for he had not lost a single battle, if we except 
the repulse at the outset, at Eothiere. He had met 
with but one repulse, while he and his Guard had 
swept every field on which thej had struggled. 

Having driven back the allies under Schwartzen- 
berg, Napoleon again turned his attention to Blucher, 
who having recovered from the severe chastisement 
he had received, was marching rapidly on Paris. He 
had reached Meaux, only three days' march from the 
city, and the thunder of his cannon had been heard 
there, striking terror into the hearts of its inhabi- 
tants. 

But this iron-willed Prussian, while exulting in the 
near prospect of beholding the French capital, was 
arrested with the stunning news that l^apoleon with 
his Old Guard, w^as thundering in his rear. He 
immediately retreated in great haste toward Soissons, 
around which Bernadotte's army lay, in the hope to 
effect a junction with it and oifer his pursuer battle. 
Soissons was deemed impregnable and was in posses- 
sion of the French. ISTapoleon had sent to General 
Moreau, the commander, to defend it with his brave 
Poles, the remnant of Poniatowski's corps, to the "last 
drop of their blood." Instead of obeying this perem^p- 
tory order, the cowardly or traitorous commander 
gave up the place without striking a blow, and that 



FALL OF SOISSONS. 203 

too just as Blucher was approaching it with, his tat- 
tered, ragged, and exhausted army, feeling that he 
was marching on certain destruction. But for this 
shameful rendition, the arm}^ of Silesia would have 
been annihilated, and the whole aspect of the cam- 
paign changed. 

IN^apoleon was thrown into a transport of rage at 
this unexpected overthrow of his sagacious combina- 
tion, exclaiming, " the name of Moreau always brings 
misfortune." The weakness or crime of one com- 
mander, had sufficed to render all his skilful plans 
and wearisome marches fruitless. "While he was 
expecting to deal a death-blow to the army of Silesia, 
and then turn back as before, and punish the tardy 
army, under Schwartzenberg, he saw the former join 
his troops to those of Bernadotte, swelling their 
forces to over a hundred thousand men, while he had 
not half that number under his command. It was 
enough to break the heart of a strong man to see 
genius and effort thus rendered useless, and such 
splendid combinations overthrown by the fault of one 
officer. It seemed as if Fate was determined to 
drive this great soul to madness. Napoleon, how- 
ever, with his exhausted army, moved forward and 
attacked the enemy in their almost impregnable 
position at Craonne. Prodigies of valor were per- 
formed in this bloody attack. Drouot in the midst 
of his guns, the Old Guard staggering under the fire 



204 THE OLD GTJAKD. 

of sixty cannon, wearied columns plunging with loud 
cheers on positions that looked unassailable, un- 
bounded devotion of officers and men, combined to 
make it one of the most remarkable days of Napo- 
leon's life. Still it was the Old Guard that wrought 
the miracles tliat paralyzed the enemj^, and finally 
forced it to retire. In writing to Joseph, Kapoleon 
said, " The Old Guard alone stood Jirm — the rest 
melted like snow.-^ Alas, the Old Guard had also 
melted away, but only under the tremendous fire of 
the enemy's batteries, and on the spot where they 
stood. 

I^apoleon now saw that from the perils which en- 
vironed him, nothing short of a miracle could deliv- 
er him, and while traversing this bloody battle-field 
in gloom, said, " I see clearly that this war is an 
dbyss^ hut I will he the last to Ibury myself in it. If 
we must wear the fetters it is not I who will stretch 
out my hands to receive them.'''' 

Firm and calm he still stood at bay — nay, pushed 
boldly on the enemy. Following up the retreating 
armies of Blucher and Bernadotte to Laon, he re- 
solved to give battle, though the enemy occupied an 
exceedingly strong position with a force more than 
double his own. It was a desperate resolution, but 
nothing short of desperate means could save him. 

Having taken up his position in front of the place, 



THE GUAED KETKEATS. 205 

he however waited the arriyal of Marmont to whom he 
had sent despatches to join him, before ventming an 
attack. This marshal who, with great generalship, 
was always committing egregious blunders, was fast 
coming up, and on the 9th bivouacked within a few 
miles of "N^apoleon. The next day he would, have 
effected a junction. Yet notwithstanding he was in 
the neighborhood of the enemy, with whom he had 
been engaged during thp day, he allowed himself to 
be surprised at night, and utterly annihilated. 

This unexpected disaster compelled ITapoleon to 
retreat. It was with gloomy forebodings that after 
such prodigious efforts he took up his retrograde 
niarch without having struck a decisive blow. 

Before he left Laon, however, he made the enemy 
feel the weight of his terrible Guard, which so daunted 
them that no pursuit was attempted. 

Overmatched and exhausted as l^apoleon now was, 
he still looked resolutely on the circle of fire that was 
steadily growing narrower around him. His great 
heart beat as firmly as in the hour of victory, and the 
depth of his anguish could be seen only by the 
increased sternness and gravity of his aspect. He 
seemed to be gazing gloomily into the future, and as 
he stood amid his unconquerable Guard, now no 
longer in complete uniform with burnished arms, but 
ragged and wan, besmeared with smoke and powder, 



206 THE OLD GUAED. 

he seemed the embodiment of thought smTounded by 
the shattered instruments of power. Those scarred 
veterans who had so often sent up the shout of vic- 
tory at his presence, gazed on him with greater awe 
than ever. In the long and silent moods that came 
over him, thej saw the terrible future before them. 
They were not accustomed to such constant fits of 
abstraction, and they jocularly called him " Father 
TTiougMfvlP Still their secret convictions belied 
their outward gaiety, for although they felt strong in 
their resolution and valor, they could not but see that 
the struggle was growing hopeless. To die for their 
Emperor was an easy task, but would that save him ! 
Forgetting themselves, they thought only of him, as 
he, forgetting himself, thought only of France. 

But though wearied and overtasked, his was a will 
that nothing could break — a heart that no danger or 
calamity could crush, and while Blucher was resting 
idle at Laon, he fell suddenly on Rheims, occupied by 
St. Priest with 14,000 men, and took it, relieving 
the army of a third of its number, together with its 
infamous commander. Here he had a last review of 
his Old Guard, and a sad spectacle those scarred vet- 
erans presented. For nearly two months they had 
marched over the most impassable roads, fought two 
armies each superior to their own, submitted to unpa- 
ralleled fatigue without a murmur ; and now haggard 
and wan, their uniform in tatters, their horses mere 



rrS APPEAHANCE. 207 

skeletons, their guns battered and black, all showing 
what privations and toil and incessant conflicts they 
had endured, they looked the mere wreck of their 
former selves. Still their appearance was nothing 
compared to that of the broken down young con- 
scripts and other portions of the army. As l^apoleon 
saw these last defile past him, a frown darkened his 
features, for " coming events were casting their 
shadows before," but when his glance fell on the 
eagles of the Old Guard, and he beheld their firm set 
ranks move by, a smile of triumph relaxed his stem 
expression, for he felt that he might not despair so 
long as that iron band closed around him. 

'No sooner was Schwartzenberg apprised of IN^apo- 
leon's departure to arrest Blucher, than he advanced 
against the slight curtain of troops under Oudinot 
and Macdonald, left to dispute his advance to Paris. 
The French marshals were of course driven back, 
although obstinately contesting every inch of ground 
as they retired. 

The serious aspect of afiairs in this quarter hur- 
ried i^apoleon back as before, but not victorious a.s 
then over Blucher. 

His junction with Oudinot filled the allies with 
alarm, and Schwartzenberg hastily concentrated his 
forces, fearing one of those sudden and desperate 
blows the Emperor was accustomed to give with his 
Old Guard. The latter endeavored to manoeuvre on 



208 THE OLD GTJAED. 

the flank and rear of the enemy, but their rapid con- 
centration prevented him, so that he was compelled to 
attack a force double his own, and the battle of Arcis- 
SLir-Aube was fought. On the first day Napoleon 
was in the midst of the Guard, who stood firm as a 
rock under one of the most terrific cannonades to 
which they had ever been exposed. ISTearly every 
one of his staff was killed or wounded by his side. 
A bomb fell in front of one of the battalions of con- 
scripts, which caused a sudden confusion in their 
ranks. Napoleon, conscious of his imminent peril 
unless his troops stood firm, spurred fiercely up to 
the shell and made his horse smell it. It burst, 
overthrowing both him and his steed. With the same 
impassible face, whose serenity no power on earth 
seemed able to disturb, he arose from his mutilated 
steed and calmly mounting another, stood with gloom 
on his brow, but grand and resolute as ever, in the 
vortex of the battle. Again and again he spurred 
at the head of his Guard on the most deadly batteries, 
and though all around him were struck, he seemed 
to bear a charmed life. 

At ten at night the batteries ceased playing, and 
the two armies sunk to rest on the field they had piled 
with the dead. 

The next day Napoleon seeing that it was useless 
to contend in such a position against an army so 
vastly superior to his own, commenced a retreat, 



THE MARCH TO PARIS. 209 

wliicli he effected in perfect order, though a hundred 
cannon were playing upon his retiring columns. The 
loss was nearly equal in this bloody engagement, and 
neither could claim the victory, but nothing now 
could arrest the double movement of the allies on 
Paris. ISTapoleon then saw the mistake he had made 
in not having relinquished his hold on Holland, Italy, 
and Spain, and brought up the veteran armies that 
were there struggling to retain his possessions. Still 
he did not despair, and hoped to divert the allies from 
their onward movement by marching back towards 
the Rhine, and falling on their communications. To 
his surprise, however, they let him go, and moved 
en masse upon Paris. When he at last discovered 
their determination, he wheeled about, and taking 
with him the Old Guard, strained every nerve to 
reach the city before its downfall. Previous to start- 
ing, however, he delivered another of his terrible 
blows on the force left to watch his movements. 

The devoted Guard which had borne the weight of 
this campaign, which was called " Campaign of the 
Imperial Guard," and had made unparalleled marches 
and endured privations that would have broken the 
spirit and strength of any other soldiers in Europe, 
were now called upon to put forth still greater efforts. 
When Kapoleon announced to them that the enemy 
was marching on Paris, and they must hasten to its 
relief, they answered him with a shout, and soon 



210 THE OLD GUARD. 

those brave men were seen moving like winged 
troops over the comitry. Although in the most fright- 
ful condition, having been without bread for the last 
six days, and for the most part barefoot, suffering 
grievously for the mere necessaries of life, they cheer- 
fully traversed the miry roads in the midst of pelting 
storms, sternly crowding after their agitated, but still 
indomitable chief. A little after midnight of the 
30th, they arrived at Troyes, having marched twenty- 
four hours without rest, making the astonishing dis- 
tance oi forty miles. But no troops could long stand 
such a strain, and ]^apoleon was compelled to leave 
them behind to rest a short time ; and proceeded 
alone without any escort towards Paris. His agita- 
tion, wild ride, and distress and anger when he heard 
of the capitulation of the city, are well known. The 
thunderbolt had fallen. 

But dark as the prospect now grew around him, 
he did not yield to despair. He had entered the 
capitals of every sovereign whose troops now swarmed 
through Paris. In their kingly palaces he had dic- 
tated terms to them and treated them like kinsjs still, 
and they must reciprocate this treatment. But to his 
surprise those monarchs, who had not hesitated to 
make treaties with him up to the last moment, no 
sooner found themselves in possession of Paris, than 
they refused to recognise him as a legitimate sove- 
reign. Ah, how deeply he must have regretted then 



FALL OF PARTS. 211 

the leniency he had shown them in former years, and 
bitterly remembered the hour when, with a single 
blow, he could have dismembered faithless Austria, 
but forbore. 

Still his case was not hopeless — he had bivouacked 
amid the ashes of Moscow, but the Russian army did 
not die. lie had bombarded Yienna, but the king 
remained ; he had marched into Berlin, but the Prus- 
sian columns were not extinct. True, Paris had 
fallen and he looked round on a vast ruin ; but the 
monarchs who spurned him now had looked upon as 
great a ruin wrought by his hands, and with less 
genius and resources than he possessed, had risen again, 
and he would show them the lion was not yet dead. 
lie had not been beaten in a single battle — only once, 
and that in the first enojao-ement at Rothiere, had he 
been even repulsed. With vastly inferior forces he 
had been victorious in every engagement. Through 
constant <^^6<2z?<s the enemy had entered his capital. 
He had been accustomed to march over routed armies 
into their capitals, but over him and that Old Guard 
they could not with their gathered millions go. They 
had succeeded because with his few troops he could 
not block every passage leading from the extended 
frontiers of France to its heart. "With one army he 
could not spread himself the whole breadth of his 
empire and arrest the march of three armies. Against 
either one he was always successful, and but for acci- 



212 THE OLD GUAED. 

dents no man could anticipate, instead of 'beating 
these separately, he wonld have annihilated them in 
succession. But he had failed, and now he stood 
amid perils that might well daunt the stoutest heart. 
Still there was room for hope. Suchet had 20,000 
veterans in Spain. Soult, who had retreated into 
France, had over 30,000. Marmont and Mortier, who 
had retired from Paris on its capture, had also a large 
armj. Augereau was at the head of another. Prince 
Eugene of another, while his own forces numbered 
50,000, among which, with spirits unbroken, was the 
steadfast Old Guard. Besides all these, Davoust still 
held Hamburg, and Carnot Bergen op Zoom, which 
places, together with Magdebourg, Wesel, Majence, 
Barcelona, Antwerp, Mantua, and Alexandria, con- 
tained over 90,000 men and twelve thousand cannon 
all at his disposal. One of the last shouts in the bat- 
tle around Paris, was " Yive V EinjpeTexir^'' from some 
of the Old Guard who had fought like lions under 
Curial. His marshals — veterans tried in a hundred 
battles — also remained to him. Davoust, Suchet, 
Soult, Yictor, Marmont, Mortier, Massena, Eugene, 
and Ne}^ — hosts in themselves, were left. ISTot an 
army had been dissipated, and he could look around 
on a force vast enough, with him and his marshals at 
its head, to cope with Europe in arms against him. 

At all events he would strike for his empire, so 
long as a blow could be given. Filled with this de- 



EEVIEW AT FONTAINBLEATJ. 213 

termination, he, at Fontainbleau, whither he had 
retired, immediately began to put his Guard in a 
proper condition for active service. Having made 
several changes among the commanding officers, he 
reviewed it. The infantry were ranged along two 
sides ; fifteen deep, and after he had gone through their 
ranks, he called around him the older officers and 
soldiers of each company, and forming them in a 
circle, said, " Soldiers, the enemy has stolen three 
marches on us, and entered Paris. We must drive 
them out of it. The unworthy French emigrants whom 
we have pardoned, have assumed the white cockade 
and joined the enemy. The poltroons — they sliall 
receive the reward of this new attempt. Let us 
swear to conquer or die, to make this tri-colored cock- 
ade respected, which, for twenty years, has always 
been found in the path of glory and honor." With 
one voice they cried, " Yes, yes, we swear it, " Vive 
VEmpereur^^ The infantry then defiled rapidly by 
and gave place to the cavalry which shook their sa- 
bres as they passed, crying, " Yive VEmpereurP This 
unconquerable corps had derived from its intre2:)id 
leader the indomitable will and heroic bearing in the 
midst of adversity. Though just relieved from un- 
paralleled efforts and sufferings, worn down by fatigue, 
and needing repose, they were ready at his command 
to encounter still greater hardships arid undergo still 
heavier privations. Over many a doubtful battle- 



214 TIIE OLD GUAKD. 

field, tlirongh the snow and frosts of Russia, past 
flaming batteries, with their brave arms around him, 
they had carried him all steadily forward, and were 
ready again to enfold him in their solid squares, 
and bid defiance to the world in arms. Eising in 
moral grandeur above the most disheartening circum- 
stances, above every selfish gratification and fear of 
peril or death, they stood there by their wrecked Em- 
peror, the same " column of granite " to which again 
and again he had riveted his fortunes and his empire 
in safety. 

Immediately after the review, the Guard took up 
their march for Essonnes, w^here Marmontlay w^ith his 
army. They reached it late at night and encamped 
outside. 

But when Marmont discovered that ]N"apoleon, 
instead of bending to the storm was determined to 
breast it boldly, and again take the field, he opened 
secret negotiations with the allies, the result of which 
was, he, with his army, were to abandon the important 
position of Essonnes and join them. He accordingly 
at four o'clock in the morning of the 6th of Aj^ril, 
having previously ordered that profound silence 
should be maintained in the ranks, took up his line of 
march. This early departure and silent march was 
taken to deceive the troops, who supposed they were 
about to be led against the enemy. They did not 
discover their error till they saw the Bavarian army 



MAEMONTS lEEASON. 215 

marcliing by their side, ready to arrest any movement 
which might be made against their commander. The 
Polish cavahy, however, no sooner saw how they had 
been betrayed, than they struck their spurs into their 
horses and bursting away, came in a fierce gallop to 
Fontainbleau, and reported the treason. When ISTa- 
poleon heard it, he exclaimed, ""Who could have 
believed Marmont capable of such an act, a man with 
whom I have divided my bread, whom I drew from 
obscurity, whose fortune and reputation I made. The 
lot of sovereigns is to make ingrates. Ah, surely his 
troops did not know whither he was leading them, 
and yet he has always before this given me the most 
lively proofs of attachment." Soon after, !N"ey began to 
vacillate — declaring it was useless to prosecute the war. 
The young generals were eager to march against the 
enemy, but the marshals and older officers were tired 
of the protracted conflict. Besides, the defection of 
Marmont had thrown a gloom over the whole army. 
His example was contagious, and a sudden revulsion 
of feeling and enthusiasm followed, and Ij^ajjoleon 
saw that his veteran generals could not be relied 
upon. The allies took advantage of this state of 
things and immediately rose in their demands. At 
first they had sti2:>ulated that ISTapoleon should abdi- 
cate in favor of his son — ^now they required him to 
abdicate unconditionally. The senate taking courage, 
dethroned him. When this decision was brought 



216 THE OLD GUAED. 

him, lie gave way to a torrent of indignation, and 
refused in the most peremptory manner to sign his 
abdication. With light flashing from his eyes, and 
his iron ■will written on every feature of his pale 
countenance, he declared he would put himself again 
at the head of his armies, and fall on the field of bat- 
tle, rather than submit to such humiliation; and it 
was not till his marshals gave him to understand that 
they would not go with him, that he consented to 
yield. 

In his formal abdication, which followed, he said, 
" The powerful allies having proclaimed that the 
Emperor N^apoleon is the only obstacle in the way of 
the peace of Europe, The Emperor IN'apoleon, faith- 
ful to his oath, declares that he renounces for himself 
and his heirs, the thrones of France and Italy, since it 
is not merely any personal sacrifice, but that of his 
life he would make for the interests of France." He 
then conversed with the generals of his Guard, say- 
ing, " Now that all is ended, and I can no longer re- 
main here, your interest is with the Bourbon family. 
It will rally all parties. The king, they say, has 
judgment and discretion. He will not wish, I think, 
to attach his name to a bad reign. If he is wise, in 
occupying my bed at the Tuilleries, he will only 
change the drapery. If his family are wise, you will 
be happy, but he must treat the army well, and not 
attempt to brmg back the past, otherwise, his reign 



NArCi.EON DESERTED. 217 

will be short." Thus he went on uttering truths that 
a Bourbon could never understand, till driven from 
his throne. 

His abdication was followed bj the most shameful 
desertion, which broke his spirit more than all the 
disasters which for the last two years had accumu- 
lated upon him, or the loss of his throne. " After it," 
says Caulincourt, his grand equery, " every hour was 
marked by fresh voids in the Emperors household. 
The universal object was how to get first to Paris. 
All persons in ofiice quitted their j)laces without 
leave, or even asking permission ; one after another 
they all slij)ped away, totally forgetting him to whom 
they owed everything, but who no longer had any- 
thing to give. The universal complaint was, that he 
so long delayed the fonnal announcement of his 
abdication. " It was high time," every one said, ''for 
all this to come to an end ; it is absolute childishness 
to remain any longer in the anti-chambers of Fon- 
tainbleau when favors are showering down at Paris," 
and with that they all set off for the capitol. Such 
was their anxiety to hear of his abdication, that they 
pursued misfortune even into its last asylum ; and 
every time the door of the cabinet opened, a crowd 
of heads was seen peeping in to gain the first hint of 
the much longed-for news." His household was de- 
serted of men of distinction, with the exception of 
Maret and Caulincourt. Even his valet Constant^ 



218 THE OLD GUAED. 

who had served him foiirteen vears, stole a hundred 
thousand francs and ran away, and the Mameluke 
Boustan, with him. The defection reached the army. 
Berthier left him without even a formal adieu. When 
Napoleon heard of his departure, he said scornfully, 
" He was born a courtier ; you will see my vice-con- 
stable mendicating employment from the Bourbons. 
I feel mortified that men whom I have raised so high 
in the eyes of Europe should sink so low. What 
have they made of that halo of glory through which 
they have hitherto been seen by the stranger. What 
must the soverei2:ns think of such a termination to 
those who have illustrated my reign." The old gen- 
erals whom he had covered with glory hastened to 
offer their swords to their new master, and in the 
struggle on every side for place and preferment, Na- 
poleon was abandoned. This was an unexpected 
blow, and it broke him down. That will of iron and 
soul of indomitable courage that no misfortune or dan- 
ger could shake, and he who, when alone, could bend 
his haughty brow on the sovereigns of Europe, greater 
in his isolation than they in their triumphs, sunk 
under the desertion of his followers. It was the only 
time in his life that he ever exhibited weakness, and 
he resolved to take his own life. Those around him 
observed a strangeness of demeanor, as if the present 
was forgotten, and something remote and mysterious 
absorbed his thoughts. He spoke of the heroes of 



ITAPOLEON TAKES POISON. 219 

antiquity who would not survive their misfortunes, 
and on the night of the 12th, on taking leave of Cau- 
lincourt, he said with a look of settled melancholy, 
" My resolution is taken ; we must end, I feel it." A 
few hours after, Caulincourt was awakened by l^apo- 
leon's valet, who rushing in, said that the Emperoi 
was in convulsions and dying. As he reached the 
apartment, he saw Maret and Bertrand standing over 
the bed, from which arose stifled groans wrung by 
agony from the breast of the royal sufferer. Soon 
after Ivan, his surgeon, ran in greatly terrified ; for 
he had seen l^apoleon shortly after retiring, rise and 
pour some liquid from a vial and drink it. This 
liquid he had just discovered to be a subtle poison he 
himself mixed for the Emperor when in Russia, to be 
taken in the last emergency, if captured by the Cos- 
sacks. Caulincourt leaned over him and took his 
hand and found it already cold. The Emperor opened 
his eyes and said in a feeble voice, " Caulincourt, I 
am about to die. I recommend to you my wife and 
son — defend my memory. I could no longer endure 
life. The desertion of my old companions in arms had 
Irolcen my heartP The bolt had come from his brave 
"companions in arms" with whom he had toiled 
over so many battle-fields, shared so many hardships, 
and triumphed together in so many victories, and 
whose renown was a part of his own. 
The dose, however, probably from being kept so 



220 THE OLD GIJAED. 

long proved too weak, and after the most excruciating 
agony for two hours, he was relieved bj violent vom- 
iting. The spasms gradually became less severe, and 
at length he fell asleep. On awaking he said, "Ivan, 
the dose was not strong enough — God did not will it ;" 
and from that moment his wonted serenity returned, 
and he began to make preparations for his departure. 
But amid this general abandonment, there was an 
exhibition of attachment and fidelity which more 
than compensated for all the disgrace in which the 
mighty drama was closing, and threw a halo of 
glory around the closing scene, worthy of ]^apoleon 
and his career. The Old Guard to a man stood firm. 
Not one in that vast body would leave him. Rock- 
fast in its afiection, as in its courage, it was above the 
contagion of selfish example as it had ever been above 
that of fear. Those stern veterans saw with scorn the 
base abandonment of their chief, and closed around 
him more devotedly than ever. True, he had nothing 
more to give them. A banished and powerless man, 
they could gain nothing by adhering to his fallen 
fortunes but disgrace and suspicion. It mattered not ; 
in their frozen bivouacks, on the field of carnage, in 
the midst of famine, and in the triumph of victory, 
they had enfolded him in their protecting squares, 
and they would not desert him now. Grand like 
their chief, they scorned to stoop to meanness for 
self-preservation. They all, with one accord, de- 



ITS FAITHFULNESS. 221 

rnanded permission to accompany him in his exile. 
This the allies would not grant ; only four hundred 
were permitted to go as a body-guard, while fifteen 
hundred might escort him to the sea-side, where he 
was to embark. 

The 20th of April was fixed for his departure, and 
after one more struggle, the great drama would close — 
he was yet to bid farewell to his faithful Guard, his 
com]3anions by night and day for so many years, and 
through so many trying scenes. These veterans, 
with tears in their eyes, stood in the court of Chevah 
blanc, drawm up in two ranks, waiting to take fare- 
well forever of their beloved commander. At noon 
he descended the stairs of the i^alace, and walking 
through the throng of carriages waiting at the door, 
stepped into the midst of the Old Guard, which im- 
mediately closed in a circle around him. Casting his 
eye over the familiar ranks, he said, in a calm but 
subdued voice, " Ofiicers and soldiers of my Guard, 1 
bid you adieu. For twenty years I have led you in 
the path of victory — for twenty years you have served 
me with honor and fidelity — receive my thanks. My 
aim has always been the happiness and glory of 
France. To-day circumstances are changed. When 
all Europe is armed against me, when all the princes 
and powers have leagued together, when a great por- 
tion of my empire is seized, and a part of France * ^ 
* ^ * ." He paused a moment at these words, and 



222 THE OLD GUARD. 

then in an altered voice continued, " "When another 
order of things is established, I ought to yield. 

"With you and the brave men who remained 
devoted to me, I could have resisted all the efforts of 
my enemies, but I should have kindled a civil war in 
our beautiful France — ^in the bosom of our beloved 
country. 

" Do not abandon your unhappy country ; submit 
to your chiefs, and continue to march in the road of 
honor where you have always been found. Grieve 
not over my lot, great remembrances remain with me. 
I shall occupy my time nobly in writing my history 
and yours. 

" Officers and soldiers, 1 am content witli you. I am 
not able to embrace you all, but I will embrace your 
general. Adieu, my children, adieu, my friends, pre- 
serve me in your memory. I shall be happy when I 
hear that you are so." Then turning to General 
Petit, he said, " Come, General." Petit approached, 
and ISTapoleon pressed him to his overburdened breast. 
He then asked for the eagle that he might embrace 
that also. The standard-bearer inclined the eao-le : 
ITapoleon kissed it three times, every feature working 
with the intensity of his feelings. " Ah, dear eagle," 
said he, and after a pause in which it seemed for a 
moment that his firmness would give way before the 
swelling tide of en?otion that struggled for utterance, 
he added tenderly, " Adieu, my children, adieu, my 



PAETING SCENE WITH NAPOLEON. 223 

braves, surround me once again." Those scarred vet- 
erans had never seen their chief so moved before, 
and as they stood and gazed in mournful silence on 
him whom they were to see no more, great tears 
rolled down their scarred visages, and their lion hearts 
were broken with grief, l^apoleon threw one glance 
upon them and their eagle, then tore himself away, 
and flinging himself into a carriage, drove off toward 
the place where he was to embark. 

The silence that reigned in the ranks after his dis- 
appearance, the mournful aspects of the men, the 
utter loneliness which every one felt, showed what a 
place ITapoleon held in their affections. It was the 
love the brave always bear the brave who have com- 
bated by their sides. The scene was worthy of the 
actors in it, and ISTapoleon could not have had a more 
glorious termination to his great career. 

The world never witnessed any thing more indom- 
itable than ISTapoleon and that Old Guard ; the earth 
never shook under anything more terrible than their 
tread, and the eye of man never gazed on more ter- 
rific scenes than they had moved amid unappalled, 
yet here at the last they were melted to tears. It was 
a scene to touch the hardest heart, and the allied offi- 
cers who had been sent to accompany jSTapoleon at 
his departure, could not repress their emotion in wit- 
nessing it. A hundred fields of fame seemed to look 
down on them there — great remembrances clustered 



224 THE OLD GUARD. 

around them. From the dazzling splendor of the 
pyramids — from the Alps, the Pyrenees, from Italy, 
from the Khine, the Dannbe, and the Niemen, the 
eye turned to that last adieu, scarcely convinced that 
that was the end of it all. 

Fontainbleau was deserted, and the Old Guard took 
up its march for Paris. In the imposing pageants the 
allied sovereigns kept up in the capital, it too was com- 
pelled to make a part, and was seen side by side with 
the Russian, Prussian, and Austrian Guards. Yet even 
here the veterans bore the same undaunted aspect, and 
looked more like conquerors than conquered. Their 
masters, but not their victors, were about them. They 
might assume the relation of conquerors, but never 
on the field of battle had they earned the right to do 
so. In the very last struggle w^hich ended in the 
overthrow of the empire, not once had they been 
beaten, while before their charge the firmest ranks 
of their foes had been shivered into fragments. The 
very last time they had moved with levelled bayonets 
on the enemy, they had trampled them under foot, 
and why should they feel like vanquished men ! 

It was this very consciousness of never having been 
beaten, and the firm belief they could not be, that 
made the position they were compelled to occupy so 
hateful, and gave them a sternness of expression and 
haughtiness of bearing that attracted every beholder. 
"With the same steady step that had made Europe 



ITS BEAEING. 225 

tremble, they defiled before their new masters, while 
their sullen aspects and scornful looks gave rise to 
many dark suspicions, and secret fears. Fields of 
slaughter rose one after another in dark succession 
as they passed, telling of deeds of valor undreamed 
of before. 

So sullen was their humor, and so irritable did they 
become in their humiliating position, that they con- 
stantly sought quarrels with their enemies. 

When Louis XYIII. entered Paris, the grenadiers 
of the Guard maintained a gloomy silence, none but 
the dragoons and guards of honor could be prevailed 
upon to cry " Yive le Itoi.^^ These old veterans refused 
to obey their officers in this respect, and when the re- 
view was past, they shouted, " Vive V EmyereurP 

Usually distinguished for their peaceable deport- 
ment, the soldiers now became intractable, and duels 
with the troops of the allied army were of daily occur- 
rence. 

One day the Austrian grenadiers appeared with 
green sprigs in their caps. This, the Old Guard took 
as a sign of triumph, and immediately insulted them, 
daring them to battle. Such was its rage at their 
presuming to wear publicly a badge of triumph 
ivhen they had been beaten on every field of Europe, 
that Schwartzenberg had to write the French minis- 
ter of war on the subject, and caused to be put in the 
Paris journals an article stating that these " green 



226 THE OLD GUAED. 

brandies were not designed as a mark of trinmph, 
bnt a simple rallying sign, prescribed from time im- 
memorial by military rules both, in peace and war." 

Savage and morose, tlie Old Guard trod the streets 
of Paris on review in silence, but when in their bar- 
racks their indignation found open vent, and their 
" Vive V Emjpereur'''^ was often heard. 

So grievously did they take the altered state of 
things. 



CHAPTER Xn. 

1815. 

THE OLD GUAED UNDER THE EESTOEATION. 

Its hearing towards its foes— Its anger at losing its colors — The Old Guard at Elb&— 
Napoleon's habits — Anecdotes illustrating the discontent of the troops in their 
e.xile— Their return to France and march to Paris— Reception of the Guard— Lasi 
charge at Waterloo. 

The aspect of affairs did not improve mnch after the 
allied troops left Paris. The Old Guard on the one 
hand was an object of suspicion and fear — on the 
other it scorned the new system of things. As for 
Marmont, its contempt for him was open and undis- 
guised. For the traitor who had brought about their 
humiliation they had nothing but maledictions. Louis 
XYIII. would gladly have disbanded the corps but he 
dared not. 

There was no bond of sympathy between it and a 
Bourbon, and to serve him after being the prop and 



228 THE OLD GUARD. 

pride of ISTapoleon was as mortifying as to be tauDted 
by the stranger. In fact there was something twice 
as regal about the bearing and aspect of the Guard, 
as there was in the king himself. Still Louis com- 
menced by flattering and caressing it. He eulogized 
it and was prodigal of promises. He told the mar- 
shals that he wished to look upon the Guard as his 
stay and defence, and went so far as to toast it at a 
j)ul)lic dinner. But he could make no advance in its 
affections — proud of its old renown, sore from recent 
humiliations, nothing seemed able to satisfy it. To 
complete and make permanent the breach, the king 
ordered the tri-color to be thrown aside. It was 
decreed that the mere wearing of it should be con- 
sidered open rebellion. This was accusing those who 
composed the Old Guard of crime, when under these 
colors they were shedding their blood on the soil of 
France to keep it from being defiled by the foot of the 
stranger. But it was to them a cherished symbol re- 
minding them of their deeds of renown. In many a 
deadly encounter they had clung to the tri-colored 
standard with a tenacity nothing could shake. They 
had pressed after it through fire and blood, and over 
ranks of living men. From the vortex of the battle, 
whither they had carried it, they had seen it emerge 
riddled with balls and singed with flame, but still tri- 
umphantly streaming in the wind. They had sworn 
to defend it, and die rather than surrender it, and no 



THE TKI-COLOEED FLAG. 229 

mortal power had ever been able to wrench it from 
their grasp. They had seen it wave by the pyramids 
and droop along the glaciers of the Alps. Over count- 
less fortresses and cities they had lifted it in triumph. 
They had watched it fluttering amid the flames of Mos- 
cow, and closed firmly around it when beat upon by the 
storms of a Russian winter. It had watched with them 
around their frozen bivouacs, and had become endear- 
ed to them by a thousand struggles to preserve it untar- 
nished ; they had baptized it in their own blood, and 
it had been their companion through years of toil 
and suffering, and now to surrender it at the com- 
mand of a Bourbon — to let it drop ignobly from their 
hands when through such perils and death struggles, 
they had held it with a firm grasp, filled them with 
indignation and grief. That tri- color flag had made 
the tour of Em'ope with them, and was at once 
the symbol of their glory and the history of their 
needs. Enra2:ed at the command to exchano-e it for 
the white flag, many of the regiments burned their 
colors rather than part with them, and preserved the 
ashes as a sacred relic. Most of the soldiers wore the 
tri-colored cockade underneath the white one, and the 
eagles were hidden away to preserve them. They 
were changed into " the royal corps of France," but 
they had some mementoes left to show they were still 
the Old Guard of l!^apoleon. 
But the old order of things was to be re-established, 



230 THE OLD GUARD. 

and not only were the national colors changed but 
the Guard itself underwent modifications so as to 
efi'ace, as much as possible, the remembrance of the 
deeds that had immortalized it. Its officers were left 
in penury and want, and nobles of the old regime 
filled all places of honor and emolument. 

This ridiculous conduct on the part of the king, 
completed the alienation of the Guard, and its bear- 
ing became so fierce and threatening that it was sent 
from Paris. 

But the injustice and oppression under which it 
suffered did not produce such open indignation as the 
taunts and insults the officers and their wives received 
— the former from courtiers and the latter from even 
courtezans, who were in the favor of Louis, and the 
contemptible attacks in the newspapers on jSTapoleon. 
These latter called him a fool — declared that he had 
become an object of pity and derision, that all his 
troops had abandoned him gladly and returned to 
France to range themselves under the untarnished 
flag of the Eourbons. These things were discussed 
by officers and men in their quarters, and deep though 
smothered threats of vengeance uttered. 

Soon after, a conspiracy was set on foot to bring 
back E'apoleon. The officers of the Old Guard were 
deeply implicated in it, and occasional intimations 
reached the soldiers filling them with joy, for they 
burned to see their emperor once more in their midst. 



THE GUARD IN ELBA. 231 

They were heard to say, " he will reappear to chase 
away with a look these emigrants who have insulted 
our ancient glory. 

THE OLD GUARD IN ELBA. 

The Island of Elba was erected by the allies into a 
sovereignty for ISTapoleon, of which he took posses- 
sion, May 4:th. He who had swayed an empire that 
reached from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, and at 
whose imperial voice nearly a million and a half of 
men stood up in order of battle, now had a kingdom 
eight miles long and two miles broad, and an army 
of four hundred men to protect it. It was one of. 
those terrible reverses of fortune it seems strange the 
human mind can endure without the overthrow of 
reason. To be hurled from the throne of such a vast 
empire and such heights of grandeur and power to 
the dominion of a little island, was a mockery more 
bitter to bear than death. IN'apoleon, however, met 
his fate with the dignity and serenity of a great 
mind. His first care on his arrival was his Old 
Guard. He organized it into six companies with a 
staff, and added a company of marines, and also a com- 
pany of Polish lancers to which he gave the name of 
the " Squadron NajpoleonP He provided clean and 
comfortable barracks, and all the necessaries of life 
for this little army, and then turned his attention to 
his new kingdom. Instead of sitting down in sullen 



232 THE OLD GUARD. 

gloom or devoting liimself solely to pleasure in order 
to prevent time from hanging heavy on his hands, he 
went to work with the same zeal and cheerfulness he 
did, when an empire was under his control. He 
developed the resources of the island, and gave a new 
impulse to industry and commerce. He ordered new 
mines to be opened, grounds drained, and everything 
done to advance the interests or ameliorate the condi- 
tion of his subjects. 

He rose early in the morning, and accompanied by 
Bertrand or Drouot, rode over diiferent parts of the 
island to see how his little kingdom was getting on. 
After breakfast he reviewed his miniature army, as 
he was accustomed to review the Old Guard in the 
court of the Tuileries. He would manoeuvre these 
sometimes, for several hours. It seemed to amuse 
him and bring back those scenes of grandeur with 
which he had astonished the world. He devoted 
himself also to literatm^e, and by his cheerfulness and 
urbanity, made all happy about him. 

Sometimes he would go on foot to different points 
of the island, enter the stores and make purchases 
or leave orders, and terminate his tour at the barracks 
of the Guard, by which he was always received with 
loud acclamations. 

But the old veterans, accustomed to a life of activ- 
ity, and when in barracks to the variety and pleasure 
of a city, grew weary of this isolation, and together 



LIFE IN ELBA. 233 

with, tlie officers, pined for a different sphere of 
action. In order to drive a way these feelings Kapo- 
leon obtained a company of comedians from Trieste 
and ^Naples, and set up a little theatre for their enter- 
tainment. The soldiers beheld again the Yaude- 
villes which had delighted them in Paris, and soon 
they were heard at all hours of the day humming 
some familiar song which these exhibitions recalled 
to mind. 

Still the prospect of a life of idleness and exile 
was not very cheering, and J^apoleon saw with, regret 
the growing desire among officers and men to change 
their residence for one more congenial to their tastes. 
One day on entering the barracks of his Guard, while 
they were preparing dinner, he said pleasantly to a 
group standing near him, ""Well, my grumblers, is 
the soup good to day ?" 

"Yes, my Emperor," said one of the old scarred 
veterans, " but it would be better if ," 

"If what," replied J^apoleon, "is not the meat 
good, and the vegetables, are they tough ?" 

" On the contrary," responded the grenadier, " the 
meat and vegetables are excellent, but one thing is 
wanting which it is not in your power to give."- 

"What's that, speak, let us see?" demanded ISTa- 
poleon imj)atiently. 

" Water of the Seine to hoil them in^^^ said the 



234: THE OLD GUARD. 

veteran coolly, and without changing a muscle of his 
countenance. 

]^aj)oleon smiled bitterly at the hit, exclaiming, as 
he walked away, " Bah ! bah ! one can eat a partridge 
very well without an orange. You are too much of a 
gourmet." 

At another time as he was walking at evening, as 
he was accustomed to do, backwards and forwards 
through the long avenues of sycamores that bordered 
the grounds of his palace toward the sea, he came 
suddenly upon an old grenadier sitting at the foot of 
a tree looking very melancholy. 

" What are you doing here alone ?" he demanded 
brusquely ; " what are you thinking about ?" 

The soldier sprang to his feet with the military 
salute, and seeing a smile on the Emperor's face 
replied frankly, " I was thinking, my Emperor, of my 
country, and I said to myself, this is the close of the 
harvest time there." 

" From what country are you ?" 

" Erom Antram, four little leagues from Rennes, in 
Brittany." 

" Brittany," exclaimed ^Napoleon, " is a very good 
country, a country of brave men, but a villanous 
heaven, it always rains there, while here the climate 
is sweet, the days are superb, and the sky resplendent. 
The isle of Elba is a much better place to live in than 
Brittany." 



DEOUOT. 235 

" Mj Emperor," replied the home-sick old soldier, 
" I am too honest to deceive you, but saving your 
majesty, I love the rain which falls at Antram better 
than the beautiful days of Elba, it is my idea, and I 
may say it without offending your majesty." 

" But," continued ITapoleon, " why don't you amuse 
yourself like your comrades ? You have leisure, the 
wine is good, and you have the theatre to divert you ; 
go to the theatre." 

" That's true, my Emperor, but the pieces at the 
theatre do not equal those punchinellos of the boule- 
vards of the Temple — that's something amusing." 

" Ah, well," said E'apoieon, as he walked away, 
" have patience ; perhaps some day you will see again 
the boulevards of the Temple and its punchinellos." 

He repeated this conversation at evening and smiled 
at the simplicity and frankness of the old grenadier. 
The story soon got wind, and " I love better the pun- 
chinellos," was in every one's mouth. It had struck 
a responsive chord in the heart of each, and it was 
soon apparent how universal the grenadier's sentiment 
had become, for it gave them a way of expressing 
their feelings without offence. 

Speaking of it one day, Drouot said to ^N'apoleon, 
" We make poor Robinson Crusoes, and we do not 
resemble much Telemachus, in the isle of Calypso, for 
I presume if Minerva should appear among us in the 
shape of Mentor, she would not find it necessary to 



236 THE OLxD GUABD. 

throw us into tlie sea in order to drive us from the 
island.'' 

"Ah ! that is it," said JSTapoleon, rubbing his hands, 
" if there now were a CalyjDSO here, one would have 
to pull you by the ears to get you, like the son of 
Ulysses, back to Ithaca. The truth is, I have spoiled 
the whole of you. I have let you see too many coun- 
tries and have accustomed you to such a moving exis- 
tence, that you are not able to enjoy a j)hilosophic 
repose." Then turning to some officers who stood by, 
he said, " Allons, Messieurs, if you are wise, per- 
haps I will let you make some time a tour in 
France." But perceiving he had said too much, he 
pressed his lij)s together, and forcing a pinch of snuff 
violently up his nose, abruptly changed the conver- 
sation. 

RETUEN OF NAPOLEON AND HIS GUARD TO FRANCE. 

On the 26th of February, 1815, Col. Laborde re- 
ceived orders from Drouot to let all the laborers in 
the gardens of the officers continue their work till 
three o'clock — at four to give the troops soup, and im- 
mediately after assemble them. At five they were 
to embark in ships prepared for their reception. The 
Colonel enquired where they were going. 

" I can tell you nothing," he replied, " execute the 
orders I have given you." 

This being accomplished, JSTapoleon, after bidding 



napoleon's ketuen. ■ 237 

Lis mother and sister Pauline adien, went onboard the 
brig of war Inconstant, and with three hundred of 
his Guard, put to sea. The rest of the Guard and 
troops, in all some six or seven hundred men, fol- 
lowed in several transports. When fairly out to sea, 
ISTapoleon walked into the midst of his Guard, and 
said, " Soldiers and officers of my Guard^ vje are going 
to France?'' Loud shouts of " Yive VEm.jpereur^'' 
answered him, and all was enthusiasm and joy. 

Only one vessel hailed them on the wa.y, the cap- 
tain of which asked if they had come from Elba. 
Being answered in the affirmative, he inquired how 
ISTapoleon was. The Emperor having ordered the 
Guard to lie flat on deck so as to prevent discovery, 
himself replied, " il se porte a inerveilleP The brig 
suspecting nothing passed along, and on the first of 
March, Kapoleon reached the coast of France. Drouot 
immediately landed with the Old Guard and des- 
patched a captain with a company of chasseurs to a 
garrison at Antibes to feel the pulse of the soldiers. 
The latter was taken prisoner with all his company, 
and two officers sent to demand their release shared 
the same fate. 

That night Napoleon bivouacked in an olive field 
with his Old Guard around him. But at eleven 
o'clock he took up his march for Grasse, where he 
arrived at eleven in the morning. The soldiers 
were in a state of the highest enthusiasm. Na- 



238 THE OLD GUARD. 

poleon had promoted every one of them, and now, as 
they saw him marching in their midst again, they 
thought of the glory of the past, and beheld new 
fields of fame in the future. 

The triumphal march of E'apoleon with that little 
band of less than a thousand men from Cannes to 
Paris is well known. Fortified towns and cities opened 
their gates to him ; troops sent forward to capture 
him, shouted " Yive V JEmjoereitr^^'^ as they caught 
siffht ascain of the form of their old commander : 
ofiicers and generals were swept away in the wild 
enthusiasm that increased as he advanced towards 
Paris, and borne along on the swelling heart of the 
nation, he entered his capital, and without firing a 
shot sat down on his recovered throne. The city was 
delirious with joy, and never in the height of his 
power did IsTapoleon receive such marks of unbounded 
devotion. 

In his proclamation issued at Grenoble, calling on 
the soldiers to rally to his standard, who, he said, 
" had elevated him on their bucklers to the throne," 
he declared that " victory would march at the pas 
de charge^ the eagle fly with the national colors from 
steeple to steeple till it lighted on the towers of Kotre 
Dame." His prediction proved true. Victory had 
gone at the charge step, and the eagle flown from 
steeple to steeple in triumpli. 

The next day after his triumphal entrance into the 



ITS ARRIVAL IN PARIS. 239 

city, the Old Guard arrived by post from Lyons. As 
the Emperor approached Paris, the news of the recep 
tion that waited him, made him precipitate his ad- 
vance, and the Old Guard was left behind. But now 
as these few hundred veterans, whose worn shoes and 
tattered garments testified to their rapid and fatiguing 
march across France, came thundering into the city 
in carriages, long and deafening shouts rent the air. 
They had been the companions of their Emperor in 
his exile ; the iron band on which he had relied in 
his daring descent on France ; they seemed a part 
of him, and hence were objects of almost equal 
enthusiasm. 

During the day, Napoleon had a grand review of 
all the troops in Paris. After it w^as over, he formed 
them into a square and addressed them. The accla- 
mations that succeeded had scarcely died away, when 
a column of strange troops were seen advancing up 
the Place du Carrousel. As they approached with their 
standard in tatters, but carrying the eagles of the Old 
Guard, the army saw it was the sacred battalion 
that had accompanied Napoleon from Elba, and had 
just arrived by post from Lyons. As these veterans 
drew near, the drums throughout rolled forth a thun- 
dering salute, and banners waved, and swords shook 
in the air, and frantic hurrahs arose on every side. 

Napoleon with a gesture of the hand having silenced 
the tumult, exclaimed, " Behold the battalion which 



240 THE OLD GTJAED. 

accompanied me in my misfortmie. They are all my 
friends, and they have been dear to my heart. Every 
time that I saw them they reminded me of the differ- 
ent regiments of the army, for among these six hnn- 
dred braves there are men from all the resjliments. 
They recalled to me the grand achievements, the mem- 
ory of which is so dear, for they are all covered with 
honorable scars received in those memorable battles. 
In loving them, I love yon all, soldiers of the French 
army. They bring back to you the eagles. In giv- 
ing them to the Guard, I give them to the whole 
army. Treason and misfortune had covered them 
with a mournful veil, but they now reappear resplen- 
dent in their old glory. Swear to me that these eagles 
shall always be found where the welfare of the coun- 
try calls them, and then those who would invade our 
soil will not be able to meet their glance." " We 
swear it, we swear it," was repeated in prolonged 
echoes on every side. 

On the very day of his arrival l!^apoleon reorgan- 
ized the Old Guard by a decree in which it was speci- 
fied that no one should be admitted in it but " those 
who had served in the French army." Among the 
officers that were appointed to command it, Drouot 
took his old place, the brave Friant commanded the 
foot grenadiers, Morand the foot chasseurs, Guyot 
the mounted grenadiers, and- Lefebvre Desnouettea 
the mounted chasseurs. These had been tried on 



THE GUARD REORGANIZED. 241 

many a field of fire and blood, and could be trusted. 
Still the Guard was formed in great haste, and though 
it had been augmented to 40,000, only a part of them 
possessed the character of the troops that formerly com- 
posed it. This was soon seen in the lax discipline 
that was maintained. 

The allies knowing that every day given to Kapo- 
leon multiplied his resources, began immediately to 
pour vast armies towards the French borders. ITot 
willing to let the French people choose their own 
ruler, they, without ofi'ering any terms of peace, de- 
liberately resolved to deluge Europe in blood again, 
to keep a Bourbon on the throne. 

The history of the " hundred days," in which 'Na>- 
poleon raised an array of nearly 400,000 men ana 
took the field in the almost hopeless struggle against 
such immense forces as were pledged to his over- 
throw, is well known. In a letter to the allies, he 
begged them earnestly not to disturb the peace of 
Europe. After defending his course in ascending 
the throne of France on the ground that the Bour- 
bons were not fitted for the French people, and stating 
how he had been borne on their hearts to the capital, 
he used the following noble language, " The first 
wish of my heart is to repay so much affection by an 
honorable tranquillity. My sweetest hope is to render 
the re- establishment of the Imperial throne a guaran- 
tee for the peace of Europe. Enough of glory has 
^ 11 



242 THE OLD GUARD. 

illustrated in their turn the standards of all nations ; 
the vicissitudes of fate have sufficiently often made 
great reverses follow the most glorious success. A 
nobler arena is now opened to sovereigns. I will be 
the first to descend into it. After having exhibited 
to the world the spectacle of great combating, it will 
now be sweeter to exhibit henceforth no other rivalry 
but that of the advantage of peace — no other strife 
but that of the felicity of nations." To this appeal 
the allied sovereigns deigned not even a reply. This 
plebeian who had covered them with confusion, 
should not rule the people that loved him, so they 
struck hands together, Austria, Prussia, Kussia, and 
agreed to furnish a hundred and eighty thousand 
men each, to carry on the w^ar. Over seven hundred 
thousand men were to be banded against IS'apoleon. 
The contest, of course, was desperate, for France could 
not always keep at bay the whole of Europe in arms. 
And yet writers never tire of putting on IS'apoleon 
the crime of the carnage of "Waterloo — a battle he 
did not wish to fight. He was not prepared for hos- 
tilities, but was forced into them by those who after 
the field was heaped with the dead and Europe filled 
with mourning, turned rotlnd and pointed at him, 
exclaiming, what a monster ! A monster for strug- 
gling with almost superhum.an energy to prevent the 
invasion of his country by enemies whose only excuse 
was, they did not wish ]^apoleon to occupy the throne 



LIGNY. 



24:3 



of France. Against Eussia, Prussia, Austria, and 
England, does the blood from "Waterloo cry out for 
vengeance."^ ^a-y? more, the slaughter that soon fol- 
lowed in the streets of Paris in the effort to get rid 
of this very sovereign they forced on France, lies 
at their doors. Already is Europe reaping the reward 
of her deeds, but the day of final reckoning has not 
yet come. 

The old ofiicers of the army and even the soldiers 
of the Guard looked upon the contest with dismay, 
but the younger officers and men, dreaming of 
Austerlitz, Friedland, and "Wagram, were filled with 
enthusiasm. But though the old veterans looked 
grave and thoughtful, they determined to battle 
bravely for victory, and if it could not be won, to die 
on the field of honor. 

On the 7th of June ITapoleon set out for head- 
quarters, and a few days after, at the head of a hun- 
dred and fifty thousand men, boldly threw himself 
between Blucher and Wellington. He fell on the 
former at Ligny, and defeated him with the loss of 
fifteen thousand men. Drouot's artillery, with the 
columns of the Old Guard, moved against the centre 
of the Prussian army as of old, and pressing on over 

* These nations marched on France for precisely the same reasons 
Russia invaded Hungary and prostrated its government. No nation 
in Europe can advance a step in civil freedom, v^^ithout bringing down 
upon itself the banded armies of the despotisms that surround it. 



244: THE OLD GUARD. 

batteries and throngli clouds of cavalry, swept the 
field. 

This admirable piece of strategy by which ISTapo- 
leon separated the Prussian arid English army, under 
ordinary circumstances would have secured him the 
campaign. "Wellington had been completely out-gen- 
eralled, and l^apoleon never was more sure of victory 
than when he heard that his antagonist had retreated 
to Waterloo. There is no doubt there were traitors in 
his staff, for the despatch he sent Grouchy during the 
night, never reached him, while, in all probability, it 
fell into the hands of Blucher. But, notwithstanding 
all this, had it not been for the heavy rain the night 
before rendering the ground too soft for artillery and 
cavalry to manoeuvre, so that the attack was necessa- 
rily delayed, ISTapoleon would inevitably have beaten 
"Wellington before Blucher could have arrived. 

CHARGE OF THE OLD GUARD AT WATERLOO. 

Although I have this charge in another work yet 
being the last act in its history, the closing up of its 
long and brilliant career, I will venture here to repeat 
it, giving some additional details. 

During the day the artillery of the Guard, under 
Drouot, maintained its old renown, and the Guard 
itself had frequently been used to restore the battle 
in various parts of the field, and always with success. 
The English were fast becoming exhausted, and in 



CHAEGE AT WATERLOO. 245 

an hour more would doubtless have been forced into 
a disastrous retreat, but for the timely arrival of 
Blucher. But when they saw him with his 30,000 
Prussians approaching, their courage revived, while 
K"apoleon was filled with amazement. A beaten 
enemy was about to form a junction with the allies, 
while Grouchy, who had been sent to keep him in 
check, was nowhere to be seen. Alas, what great 
plans a single inefficient commander can overthrow. 

In a moment I^apoleon saw that he could not sus- 
tain the attack of so many fresh troops if once 
allowed to form a junction with the allied forces, and 
he determined to stake his fate on one bold cast and 
endeavor to pierce the allied centre with a grand 
charge of the Old Guard, and thus throw himself 
between the two armies. For this purpose the Impe- 
rial Guard was called up and divided into two im- 
mense columns, which were to meet in the British 
centre. Those under Reille no sooner entered the 
fire than it disappeared like mist. The other was 
placed under l^ey, " the bravest of the brave," and 
the order to advance given. I:Tapoleon accompanied 
them part way down the slope, and halting for a 
moment in a hollow, addressed them a few words. 
He told them the battle rested with them, and that 
he relied on their valor tried in so many fields. 
" Yive V EmjpereuT^'' answered him with a shout that 
was heard above the thunder of artillery. 



9.4:6 THE OLD GUAED. 

The whole continental struggle exhibits no sublimer 
spectacle than this last effort of ]^apoleon to save his 
sinking empire. The greatest military energy and 
skill the world possessed had been tasked to the 
utmost during the day. Thrones were tottering on 
the turbulent field, and the shadows of fugitive kings 
flitted through the smoke of battle. Bonaparte's 
star trembled in the zenith — now blazing out in its 
ancient splendor, now suddenly paling before his 
anxious eye. At last he staked his empire on one 
bold throw. The intense anxiety with which he 
watched the advance of that column, and the terrible 
susj^ense he suffered when the smoke of battle 
wrapped it from sight, and the utter despair of his 
great heart when the curtain lifted over a fugitive army 
and the despairing shriek rung out, " The Guard 
recoils^ the Guard recoils^^'' make us for a moment for- 
get all the carnage, in sympathy with his distress. 

The Old Guard felt the pressure of the immense 
responsibility, and resolved not to prove unworthy of 
the great trust committed to its care. Nothing could 
be more imposing than its movement to the assault. 
It had never recoiled before a human foe, and the 
allied forces beheld with awe its firm and steady 
advance to the final charge. For a moment the bat- 
teries stopped playing, and the firing ceased along 
the British lines ; as without the beating of a drum, 
or a bugle note to cheer their steady courage, they 



THE GUA-BD KECOILS. 24T 

TQOved in dead silence over the field. Their tread 
was like the sound of muffled thunder, while the 
dazzlins: helmets of the cuirassiers flashed lono; 
streams of light behind the dark and terrible mass 
that swept in one strong wave along. The stern Drouot 
was there amid his guns, and on every brow was 
written the unalterable resolution to conquer or die. 
The next moment the artillery opened, and the head 
of that gallant column seemed to sink into the earth. 
Rank after rank went down, yet they neither stopped 
nor faltered. Dissolving squadrons, and whole bat- 
talions disappearing one after another in the destruc- 
tive fire, affected not their steady courage. The ranks 
closed up as before, and each treading over his fallen 
comrade, pressed unflinchingly on. The horse which 
Ney rode, fell under him, and scarcely had he 
mounted another before it also sunk to the earth, and 
so another and another, till five in succession had been 
shot under him; then with his drawn sabre, he 
marched sternly at the head of his column. In vain 
did the artillery hurl its storm of fire and lead into 
that living mass. Up to the very muzzles they 
pressed, and driving the artillerymen from their 
pieces, pushed on through the English lines. But 
just as the victory seemed won, a file of soldiers who 
had lain flat on the c-round behind a low rido;e of 
earth, suddenly rose and poured a volley in their 
very faces. Another and another followed, till one 



248 THE OLD GUAED. 

broad sheet of flame rolled on their bosoms, and 
in such a fierce and unexpected flow that they stag- 
gered back before it. Before the Guard had time 
to rally again and advance, a heavy column of in- 
fantry fell on its left flank in close and deadly vol- 
leys, causing it in its unsettled state to swerve to the 
right. At that instant a whole brigade of cavalry 
thundered on the right flank, and penetrated where 
cavalry had never gone before. That intrepid Guard 
could have borne up against the unexpected fire from 
soldiers they did not see, and would also have rolled 
back the infantry that had boldly charged its left 
flank, but the cavalry finished the disorder into which 
they had been momentarily thrown and broke the 
shaken ranks before they had time to reform, and the 
eagles of that hitherto invincible Guard were pushed 
backward down the slope. It was then that the army 
seized with despair shrieked out, " The Guard recoils^ 
the Guard recoils^^ and turned and fled in wild dis- 
may. To see the Guard in confusion, was a sight 
they had never before beheld, and it froze every heart 
with terror. Still those veterans refused to fly ; ral- 
lying from their disorder they formed into two im- 
mense squares of eight battalions and turned flercely 
on the enemy, and nobly strove to stem the reversed 
tide of battle. For a long time they stood and let 
the cannon balls plough through their ranks, disdain- 
ing to turn their backs to the foe. Michel, at the head 



ITS LAST BATTLE. 249 

of those brave battalions, fought like a lion. To every 
command of the enemy to surrender, he replied, 
" Th^ Guard dies^ it never surrenders'^ and with his 
last breath bequeathing this glorious motto to the 
Guard, he fell a witness to its truth. Death traversed 
those eight battalions with such a rapid footstep, that 
they soon dwindled to two, which turned in hopeless 
daring on the overwhelming numbers that pressed 
their retiring footsteps. Last of all but a single bat- 
talion, the debris of the '* column of granite " at Ma- 
rengo, was left. Into this Napoleon flung himself. 
Cambronne, its brave commander, saw wdth terror the 
Emperor in its frail keeping. He was not struggling 
for victory, he was intent only on showing how the 
Guard should die. Approaching the Emperor, he 
cried out, " Hetire^ do you^ not see that death has no 
need of you'V and closing mournfully yet sternly round 
their expiring eagles, those brave hearts bade [N'apo- 
eon an eternal adieu, and flinging themselves on the 
enemy, were soon piled with the dead at their feet. 

Many of the officers were seen to destroy them- 
selves rather than survive defeat. Thus, o:reater in 
its only defeat than any other corps of men in gaining 
a victory, the Old Guard passed from the stage, and 
the curtain dropped upon its strange career. It had 
fought its last battle. 

]N'o one can contemplate this termination of its his- 
tory without the profoundest emotion. The greatness 
11^ 



250 ^ THE OLD GUAED. 

of its deeds and the grandeur of its character, endear 
it to all who love heroic action and noble achieve- 
ments ; and as one runs back in imagination, over its 
terrible campaigns, it is with the deepest sorrow he 
is compelled to bid it farewell on the fatal field of 
Waterloo. 

But there is one aspect in which the Old Guard is 
not generally viewed — it did as much for human lib- 
erty as any army, from that of Gustavus Adolphus, 
down. I do not pretend to say how much the troops 
were governed by this motive — how many, or how 
few, fought solely for glory, but that Old Guard 
never made a charge, with the exception of the last, 
that did not give an impulse to human liberty. Every 
time it broke the ranks of the despots of Europe, 
armed against the free principles working in France, 
it wrenched a fetter from the human mind. In short, 
it carried the liberty of Europe on the points of its 
sabres. The wild waking up during the last few 
years is the working of the leaven of French princi- 
ples, or rather I should say of American principles, 
sown by French hands. All honor, then, to the Old 
Guard for breaking up the iron frame-work of feudal- 
ism which had rusted so long in its place, that nothing 
but a stroke that should heave and rend everything 
asunder could affect its firmness. 

As I said before, I do not ascribe the same motives to 
the Old Guard that i existed in the hearts of the sol- 



FIGHTS FOB LIBERTY. 251 

diers of the American army or Cromwell's troops. 
Still they err much, who deriving their ideas from 
English history, suppose that they had no definite 
idea of the struggle they were engaged in. The very 
fact that ]!!^apoleon cloaked his occupation of the Tuil- 
eries by calling on his Guard to wear crape for Wash- 
ington, " who, like themselves, had fought against 
tyranny," shows how strongly rooted republican prin- 
ciples were in their hearts. They knew that hostili- 
ties were first commenced by the allied powers for 
the sole and undisguised purpose of destroying the 
French republic, and crushing the principles of free- 
dom. They also well knew that the tremendous 
combinations that were constantly formed against 
France had no other object than to defend feudalism 
and establish the old order of things. All this the 
commonest soldier knew and talked about in his 
bivouac. The troops often stormed over intrench- 
meiits singing republican songs. 

The continental monarchs also well understood the 
struggle, and foresaw what has since occurred — the 
uprising of the people, and the humiliation of royalty. 
The general, it is true, had become Emperor, but 
the code he gave the people bestowed on them all the 
freedom they knew how to use with safety to the 
government. Every proclamation ISTapoleon made to a 
conquered state, every change he proposed to a gov- 
ernment, was an immense stride in the onward march 



252 THE OLD GUAED. 

of civil liberty. It was on this account his overthrow 
was sought with such eagerness. While he occupied 
the throne the old order of things threatened momen- 
tarily to disappear. 



CHAPTEE XIII. 

THE GUAED AFTEK THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 

Its rage at the surrender of Paris— Is disbanded— Part come to America — Champ 
d'Asile in Texas— Last of the Guards — ^Tomb of Napoleon. 

The remains of the French army after the battle 
of Waterloo, fell back toward Paris whither the allies 
were already inarching. The debris of the Old 
Guard were stationed in the environs to impose on 
the enemy, for the general belief was that the city 
would be defended. Since its last capture it had 
been strongly fortified and could now make a firm 
resistance. But the rout of the Old Guard had dis- 
couraged Paris more than the destruction of two 
armies would have done. The two chambers were 
thrown into the greatest agitation. Lafayette, in the 
Chamber of Deputies, offered a resolution calling on 
Napoleon to abdicate. At first the latter could not 



254 THE OLD GUAED. 

believe it would endeavor to dethrone him, but all 
men saw that France must wage an endless war, if 
she retained ^CsTapoleon, for nothing short of his over- 
throw would satisfy the allies. It was to gratify the 
wish of a disheartened nation that he finally con- 
sented to abdicate in favor of his son Napoleon II. 
But the army did not view things in the same way. 

Two regiments of the Guard followed by a vast 
multitude, passed under the terrace of Elysee Bour- 
bon, where E'apoleon was, demanding with loud 
cries that their Emperor should put himself at their 
head, and conduct them against the enemy. ITapo- 
leon harangued them, urging them to quietness. An 
orator of the populace in replying to him mentioned 
the 18th Brumaire. The Emperor interrupting him, 
exclaimed, " You recall to my remembrance the 18th 
Brumaire, but you forget that the circumstances are 
not the same. On the 18th Brumaire, the nation was 
unanimous in its desire of a change. A feeble effort 
only was necessary to effect what they so much de 
sired. I^owit would require oceans of French blood, 
and never shall a single droj^ le shed hy me in the 
defence of a cause cdtogether personal.'''^ Singular 
language for a tyrant. After all had dispersed, Mon- 
tholon, who gives this account, expostulated with the 
Emperor for having arrested the hand of the people, 
strong enough in itself to save the capital from the 
enemy and punish the traitors who were negotiating 



NAPOLEOiM'S RESOLUTION. 5^55 

to deliver it up. JSTapoleon replied in these words, 
which should be written in gold, and are sufficient of 
themselves to repel half the slanders his enemies 
have uttered against him. JN'ote, he was speaking to 
an intimate friend in all the frankness of private 
intercourse. " Putting the brute force of the people," 
said he, "into action, would doubtless save Paris and 
insure me the crown without incurring the horrors of 
civil war, but it would likewise be risking thousands 
of French lives, for what power could control so many 
various passions, so much hatred, and such vengeance ! 
'No, there is one thing you see I cannot forget, it is, 
that I have been escorted from Cannes to Paris amid 
the bloody cries of down with the priests ! down with 
the nobles ! JVo, I lilce the regrets of France letter 
than her crownP 

iN'oble words, uttered in a moment when his crown 
was leaving him, and nothing but the sad fate of an 
exile before him. The crown glittering on the one 
hand, together with the prospect of punishing his 
foes, banishment and disgrace on the other, and yet 
to say, ^^ Hike the regrets of France letter than her 
crown'^ — to say it too, when the saying was the 
doing^ was the noblest proof that could be given of 
the truth he uttered. How strange it must sound 
to those who have contemplated him only by the light 
or rather darkness of English history, to hear this 
man whom they have regarded as a monster of cruelty, 



256 THE OLD GUARD. 

wading throiigli seas of blood, refusing to save his 
crown, because in doing it, lie must turn Frenclimen 
against Frenclimen. Ab, not one of bis kingly foes 
would bave done tbis — not one was ever beard to 
utter so noble a sentiment. 

ISTapoleon bavin g retired to Malmaison, General 
Beker was sent by tbe provisionary government to 
basten bis departure to America. Wbile talking witb 
bim, tbe former asked, " Well, wbat are tbey saying 
and doing at Paris ?" He replied, tbat opinions were 
very mucb divided about bis abdication, " but tbe 
remnants of tbe army bave remained faitbful to you, 
and are assembled tender the walls of the cajpital. A 
great proportion of tbe citizens and tbe wbole people 
of Paris seem determined to defend tbemselves, and 
if a powerful band could rally all tbese elements to a 
last effort, notbing would be bopeless perbaps." Tbis 
plain bint tbrown out by one wbo was sent to be bis 
keeper, was lost on bim, and be enquired only for bis 
passports. 

True enougb tbe " remnants of tbe army were as- 
sembled under tbe walls of tbe capital," and tbere 
too, was tbe remnant of tbe Guard, still nearly 
twenty-six thousand strong, and filled witb indigna- 
tion at tbe decision to surrender Paris to tbe enemy. 
Officers and soldiers cried out treason, and uttered 
threats of vengeance. And when tbe order came to 
tbe battalions to abandon their post, they refused to 



ANGER OF THE GUARD. 257 

obey. The old grenadiers broke their muskets and 
tore off their uniform, and cursed the authors of this 
great disgrace. Paris had fallen a year before, but 
had they been in its walls, the foot of the stranger 
would not have polluted its streets. So they and 
every one else had believed, and now to surrender it 
without striking a blow was a double disgrace, and 
an insult to their bravery. Several officers protested 
against the capitulation, while the old veterans swore 
that before quitting the capital, they, at least, would 
take vengeance on the traitors, and thus do one act 
of justice. Frightened at the terrible aspect of these 
veterans, who were not yet humbled so low they could 
not strike boldly for their country, the generals of the 
army and the authorities prevailed on the favorite 
commanders of the Guard to intercede. Docile at 
the voice of their beloved Drouot and other favorite 
chiefs, they bowed in resignation. Being ordered 
beyond the Loire, where its tomb had already been 
prepared, it took up its sorrowful march. The bear- 
ing of all was mournful, but calm and resigned. 
Still the government was in constant terror lest ISTa- 
poleon might again put himself at the head of his 
ancient braves, and sent Beker to hurry his embar- 
cation. 

While these things were passing at Paris, ITapo- 
leon was still at Malmaison, delaying his departm^e 
till the last moment. One morning, iust befor*^. he 



258 THE OLD GUARD. 

was to set out, he was aroused bj thundering shouts 
of " Yive V EinpereuT^ down with the Bourdons ^ 
down with the traitorsP Thej arose from Brujer's 
division which was returning from Yendee, where it 
had "been stationed during the fatal Belgian cam- 
paign. The soldiers had halted before the chateau, 
refusing to take another step until the Emperor was 
at their head. The officers were compelled to sub- 
mit, and General Bruyer went in and asked to see 
ISTapoleon. Montholon went in search of him, and 
found him in the library sitting by the window with 
his feet on the window sill, quietly reading Mon- 
taigne, "While France was shaking to its centre, and 
his imperial crown lay broken at his feet, and the 
WTecks of his vast empire strewed the continent, and 
a desolate future stretched before him, he could com- 
pose himself and sit down quietly to his book, as if 
there was nothing lo disturb the equanimity of his 
feelings. 

General Bruyer was admitted, and in a quarter of 
an hour the army was on its march for Paris, shout- 
ing " Yi'oe V Erajpereur^^ in the full belief they should 
soon follow Napoleon to the field of battle. 

Soon after, he sent a message to the government 
offering to take command of the army under !N"apo- 
leon II., as a simple general, promising after he had 
repulsed the enemy, " to go to the L'nited States, 
there to fulfil his destiny." In it he gave the plan 



napoleon's offer. ^59 

he was to adopt, showed how feasible it was, and 
guaranteed that 'in a few days he would drive the 
enemy beyond the frontiers of France, and " avenge 
the disasters of Waterloo." " Eighty thousand men," 
he said, " were gathering near Paris," which " was 
thirty thousand more than he had in the cam- 
paign of 1814, although he then fought three months 
against the large armies of Russia, Austria, and 
Prussia ; and France well knew that he would have 
been victorious in the struggle had it not been for the 
capitulation of Paris. It was moreover, 45,000 men 
more than General Bonaparte had headed when he 
crossed the Alps and conquered Italy." The govern- 
ment, instead of accepting the proposal, was terrified 
at it, and urged more vehemently than ever, his 
speedy departure. 

Napoleon had not the slightest doubt his proposi- 
tion would be accepted, and was preparing to take 
horse and join the army, when the refusal was brought 
him. Without exhibiting the least emotion, calm 
and serene as ever, he simply said, " Those people 
do not know the state of public opinion when they 
refuse my proposal ; they will repent it," and added, 
" Give the necessary orders then for my departure, 
and as soon as everything is ready, let me know," 
and in an hour after, he was hurrying toward the 
sea shore. "His forehead at this moment," says 



260 THE OLD GUAED. 

Montholon, "was sublime in its calmness and se- 
renity." 

Along the whole route to Rochefort, and after he 
arrived there, he was saluted with loud acclamations, 
and " Vive V Mnpereur^^^ heralded him to the coast 
where he committed the fatal mistake of trusting to 
the honor of the English government. He thought 
a great nation, like a great man, would be magnani- 
mous, but discovered too late his error. Yet he was 
avenged on her, for the slow death and petty tor- 
ture she inflicted upon him, has covered the laurels 
she won at Waterloo, with ashes. 

In the meantime, the Old Guard had constantly 
urged ]^apoleon through messengers to put himself 
again at their head. They had followed him with 
their earnest request even to the sea-shore, but he 
steadily refused. Following quickly on the steps of 
this, came the order to disband the Guard. The sol- 
diers were to be unmolested, but the officers who had 
served in the last campaign, were declared to be 
incajDacitated to receive any title or to form a part of 
the new army about to be organised, l^ever before 
did a government give its own army so rude a blow. 
It might have been expected from an enemy, bat for 
a corps that had covered France with glory and lifted 
her to an eminence she had never before reached, 
that had shed its blood freely for her protection, to be 



THE GUAED DISBANDED. 261 

SO disgraced by France itself, shows tliat the govern- 
ment was "unworthy of such a noble phalanx. 

"Not content with executing this contemptible act, 
no sooner was the disbanding effected, than it com- 
menced its proscription, and the superior officers were 
dragged before military commissioners. I^^ey, who 
led the last charge of the Old Guard, was publicly 
shot in violation of a sacred promise given by the allies, 
that he should be safe. At length the hatred of the 
king reached the inferior officers and they were desig- 
nated " brigands of the Loire," and were forbidden to 
show themselves in Paris, or even occupy the localities 
which had been assigned them by the minister of war. 
They were hunted like deer up and down, and if one 
was heard to express the least regret over what had 
been done or recall a single souvenir of their ancient 
glory, he was immediately dragged before the provost 
court over which an old emigrant presided. 

The officers finding there was no repose for them 
in France, sought refuge in foreign lands. Some 
went to Turkey, some to Greece, and others to differ- 
ent portions of the continent, where they were well 
received on account of their old renown. Some 
passed over to England, where help was extended 
them by noble men who sympathized with their mis- 
fortunes and honored them for their great deeds. 
Thus they became scattered up and down the earth, 
seeking a livelihood in various ways — many who had 



262 THE OLD GUARD. 

long held higli commands, supporting themselves by 
teaching French. The officers of a corps composed 
of 26,000 men made a little army by themselves. 

CHAMP d'asile. 

Many of the proscribed officers went to Spanish 
America and served in the war against Spain, while 
others came to the United States. Among these lat- 
ter was the fiery Lefebvre Desnouettes, who had so 
often led the chassem's of the Guard to the charge. 
Lallemand, one of E'apoleon's bravest generals, came 
here also, and soon perceived that if these old warriors 
could not be rallied together in some one place, their 
characters would degenerate, and the French name, 
honored along our western rivers, suffer disgrace. A 
proscribed and exiled soldier descends by natural 
steps to the rank of an adventurer. He therefore 
planned a place of refuge for all, to be called the 
" CJiainp cCAsileP He finally selected a spot in Texas, 
about fifty miles above the mouth of Trinity river. 
He had two objects in view in this ; first, to have a 
place to receive those officers who were exiled by the 
government, and those who voluntarily left the coun- 
try to escape the persecutions they were subject to 
from the Bourbon dynasty, and in the second place, 
to establish a '''' jprojpagande revolutionnaire^'^ in the 
bosom of Mexico, or a society for the dissemination 
of free principles in the Spanish provinces, with the 



DEPAET0EE OF THE GUARD. 263 

ultimate design of freeing Mexico from the Spanish 
yoke. 

In 1817, General Lallemand, who had communi- 
cated to Joseph Bonaparte, then residing in Phila- 
delphia, his plan, assembled the officers of the Guard, 
as well as the other proscribed officers of the army 
in that city. Having explained his intentions and 
expressed his hopgs, he persuaded by his eloquence 
nearly all the inferior officers to accompany him. 
The general officers, however, thought the plan chi- 
merical and unwise, and refused to join the enterprise, 
with the exception of the brave Rigaud, who fell in 
with it. 

A ship was freighted with provisions for four or 
five hundred men, and six pieces of artillery, six hun- 
dred muskets, and a large supply of powder. Some 
days before their departure, Joseph Bonaparte gave 
to the more needy officers a sum of money sufficient 
to pay the debts they had contracted while in Phila- 
delphia. He did not wish the officers of the Old 
Guard, those who had shared the fortunes and renown 
of his imperial brother, and borne through their long 
and glorious career so lofty a character, to have a spot, 
however slight, on their names. 

The expedition, nearly two hundred strong, left 
Philadelphia the lYth of December, at seven o'clock 
in the morning, and arrived at Galveston island the 
18th of January. Here they disembarked to wait 



264 THE OLD GIJAKD. 

for Lallemand, and constructed huts of reeds and 
pieces of timber thrown ashore from shipwrecked 
vessels — surrounding the whole with a fosse — to pro- 
tect their bivouac from the attacks of savages. On 
the 20th of March, Lallemand arrived with some 
sixty more, from New Orleans. Four days after, they 
started for the " Gliamp d? Asile^'' in ten large 
launches, which they had bought of a pirate. 

The " Ghamp cV Asile^^'' was a taking name — it 
spoke of rest and quiet after the troubled and wan- 
dering life of the last two years, but the spot itself 
was desolate enou2:h. In those vast solitudes sur- 
rounded by wild beasts and rattlesnakes and implaca- 
ble Indians, these veteran officers of the Old Guard 
were to make themselves a home. To dishearten 
them still more, the fleet of boats which on their 
arrival they had sent back after the provisions, re- 
mained absent a month. 

The exiles, however, put on a cheerful countenance, 
and commenced their organization. Three cohorts 
of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, were formed to 
defend the colony and maintain order, while fortifica- 
tions were erected to protect them from the attacks 
of the Spaniards and Indians. The last time those 
officers had superintended the erection of fortifica- 
tions, was on some great battle-field of Europe ; now 
they were laboring with their own hands in the wilds 
of Texas. Their camp was guarded with the same 



CHAMP d'asile. 265 

Bcrupulous care they were wont to guard their 
bivouac, when E^apoleon was in their midst. Then 
all were officers, while now all but a few ranked as 
common soldiers. This little armj of officers spent 
a good deal of its time in manoeuvring and military 
exercises. 

For the generals, superior officers, and women, 
large huts were constructed, but all the others bivou- 
acked as thej did in Poland, during the campaigns 
of Eylau and Friedland, eating their meals from 
wooden trenchers. To drive away wild animals an 
enormous fire, made of fallen trees, was kept con- 
stantly burning, around which, at all hours of the 
day, groups of veterans could be seen telling stories 
of the past and awakening the memory of by-gone 
deeds of fame. The environs of the fire these exiles 
jocosely called the Palais Royal^ and those who 
told stories and related adventures, the fops that 
promenaded it. Lallemand would often come to 
this " Palais Royal," and relate conversations he 
had had with !N'apoleon in the closing up of his 
career. In the forests of Russia and iiL many a 
desolate spot those exiles had ordered just such a 
fire built in the midst of their squares, and now 
as they recalled those scenes, they could almost see 
the form of IS^apoleon standing before it, as he was 
wont to do, with his hands crossed behind him and 

his stem brow knit in deep thought. The past came 
12 



266 THE OLD GUARD. 

"back with renewed fresliness. Each one had some 
reminiscence of his chief — so, said one, did he stand 
before oiir fire on the morning of the battle of Dres- 
den, and never moved, while the thnnder of cannon 
was shaking the field ; and so, said another, did we 
surround him in the forest of Minsk, on the banks of 
the Beresina. Thej traversed the whole ground 
from Lodi and Areola, to Waterloo, fighting all their 
battles over again, and then their eyes would gleam 
as they spoke of St. Helena. It was a singul ar spec- 
tacle to behold those veterans from the pyramids, 
from Marengo, from Austerlitz, Jena, Eylau, and 
Borodino, grouped together around a huge fire in the 
forests of Texas, recounting their deeds and making 
the woods echo with shouts of " Vive P J^m/pereury 
One could hardly believe that they had passed through 
Buch great and stirring scenes for nearly a quarter of 
a century, and that those poor exiles had led the col- 
umns of the Old Guard in its terrible onsets, and that 
their shout of victory had gone up from the greatest 
battle-fields of Europe. It looked strange to see in 
that far-off temple of verdure, the eagle of Austerlitz 
lifted on high, and around it grouped the symbols 
and trophies they had preserved with religious care. 
But no description can give such a vivid impres- 
sion of the whole scene, as the celebrated picture of 
Horace Yernet, called the " Soldai Ldboreur^'' in 
which he exhibits in all the distinctness of life the 



THE GUARD IN TEXAS. 267 

old soldier of the Imperial Guard — his face seamed 
with scars — the cross of honor on his breast, and his 
spade in his hand toiling in the solitudes of Texas. 

Thns they passed weeks and months in their soli 
tarj home making the woods ring with the stirring 
description of marches, and sieges, and battles, and 
victories. Some among them had been with [N^apo* 
leon at Elba, and recalled his kindness to his Old 
Guard there, and how cheerful he seemed when ma- 
noeuvring his little band, as though it were the 
grand army. They had long conversations about 
him in his island prison, and spent much of their 
time in forming plans to effect his deliverance. One 
was, to obtain a swift sailing ship, and hover round 
the coast till a favorable opportunity offered itself, 
and then make a sudden descent and carry him off. 
If that remnant of the Old Guard could once have 
set foot on the island, it would have required some- 
thing more than bayonets to have stopped their march 
on Longwood. But what did they design to do with 
him when they had effected his release? To go to 
France and exhibit another return from Elba, and 
another triumphal entry into Paris ? .ITo, they " would 
hring him to the Champ cP Asile^ He should stand 
before their bivouac fire, as of old, and they would 
minister to his wants, and he would be content in 
their midst. What a hold he must have had upon 
their affections when he could fill them with such des- 



268 THE OLD GTJAED. 

perate resolutions and longing desire to have him with 
them. 

But sickness soon began to thin their ranks and 
break down their hopes. In the meantime, the Mex- 
ican government having learned that a French colony 
had, without permission, settled upon its territory, 
sent a detachment of twelve hundred men to destroy 
it. The Indians, who had ever been friendly to the 
exiles, informed them of the premeditated attack. 
The latter immediately put themselves in a posture 
of defence, determined, notwithstanding their inferior 
ity of numbers, to maintain their ground. The Span- 
ish commander, however, halted when within three 
marches of their camp, and waited for sickness and 
discouragement to do what he dared not attempt. He 
was not compelled to wait long. JSTot receiving the 
means they expected from France, to carry out their 
plan of freeing Mexico, and finding that after the first 
excitement had passed away, the Champ d'Asile had 
become in their country a subject of ridicule rather 
than of serious thought, and no assistance could be 
expected from any source, they resolved to abandon 
the colony. Their numbers were constantly dimin- 
ishing, and it was madness to stay till their weakness 
would render them an easy prey to whomsoever might 
attack them. On the 6th of August, therefore, or a 
little more than four months from the time they 
landed, they abandoned their camp and went over to 



THE Gr^iED LEAVES TEXAS. 269 

Galveston Island. Thej remained here a montli 
longer, when, to complete their wretchedness, a hor- 
rible tempest swept the gulf. The waves rose to an 
immense height, rolling several feet deep over the 
island. These weary veterans, as they looked out on 
the wide waste of water, gave themselves up for lost. 
But there chanced to be two large and strongly-built 
cabins situated some distance from the shore which 
offered a temporary protection, and they crowded 
into them. Here for three days and nights they strug- 
gled manfully against the waves, when the storm 
subsided. Their provisions and powder, however, 
were all swallowed up in the sea. Their ammunition 
was their last hope, but it had gone like all their 
other hopes, since the battle of Waterloo. 

Another month of agony was endured on this 
island, at the expiration of which General Lallemand 
sent word that all prospect of attaining the end they 
had in view was gone, and requested them to return 
to 'New Orleans. The same pirate that had before 
carried them to the island took them oif. The sick 
and feeble went by water, but the stronger crossed 
over to the mainland, and guided by the Indians, struck 
through the forests of Texas to the frontiers of Louis- 
iana, where many of them stopped and repaid the hos- 
pitality they received by teaching the children French. 
Those who went to JSTew Orleans reached there just as 



270 THE OLD GUABD. 

the yellow fever was raging with the greatest violence, 
and thej, one after another, fell before its fury. 

Fifteen months after, a subscription of 80,000 
francs, which had been collected in France, was re-, 
ceived. But between the sea, sickness, yellow fever, 
and accidents, the ranks of those brave officers had 
become sadly thinned, so that out of more than two 
hundred, only forty-seven could be found. Those, 
with their usual generosity, divided the money with 
those who had been drawn to ^ew Orleans by false 
promises, but had not yet embarked for the " Champ 
cPAsiUy 

The artillery of the enemy did not thin the ranks 
of the Old Guard faster than proscription, exile, 
poverty, and disease. Those who came to this coun- 
try disappeared like snow. 

Once more only, do we get a glimpse of the Old 
Guard. A large number of wounded and maimed 
soldiers were in the Hotel des Invalides when the 
body of Napoleon was brought back from St. Helena, 
" to rest," as he requested in his will, " on the banks 
of the Seine, amid the people he loved." These 
dressed in the old uniform of chasseurs, grena- 
diers, &c., came forth to receive him. Amid the 
pomp and funereal splendor of that day, nothing 
moved the people more than the appearance of these 
invalid soldiers as they stood on each side of the 
entrance of the church to receive the body of their 



napoleon's tomb. 271 

old chieftain. The last time thej saw him was on 
the field of battle, and now the waving of standards 
and thunder of cannon, recalled the days when he 
marched in their midst. The past came back in such 
a sudden and overwhelming tide when thej saw the 
coffin approach, that struck dumb with grief, thej 
fell on their knees and stretched out their hands 
towards it, while tears rolled silently down their 
scarred visages. 

Long after, he who visited the Hotel des Invalides 
at any hour of the day would see these old soldiers 
treading softly around the coffin of ^Napoleon, as 
though they were afraid to disturb his repose. That 
elevated tomb at night presented an imj^osing spec- 
tacle ; upon the pall that covered this strange and 
mighty being, lay his hat worn at Eylau, his sword 
and his crown, while over all mournfully drooped 
the standards taken at Austerlitz. In the centre of 
the gold-bordered draperies that extended from col- 
umn to column of the chapel, shone in large letters, 
" Makengo," "Wageam," "Austerlitz," '^Jena." 
A chandelier, suspended from the ceiling, shed a 
dim light over all. Around this tomb, night and 
day, stood four veterans with drawn sabres, and often 
on the steps that led to it, you would see a mutilated 
grenadier of the Old Guard kneeling as if in prayer. 

Such is the history, and such was the character of 



272 THE OLD GUARD. 

the Old Guard, " a phalanx of giants," the like of 
which the world has never beheld. Its fame will 
deepen with time, and its memory grow dearer to all 
those who honor great deeds and noble men. 



CHAPTEE XIY 

Eeview of the dead — The office of the French Ke volution — Who is responsible for 
the wars that desolated Europe for so many years — Bonaparte's policy as general 
— ^As First Consul — His oflPers of peace rejected — England violates the treaty of 
Amiens — Napoleon's relation to the free States he had organized — Austria violates 
the treaty of Presbourg — Invasion of Eussia— Treachery of Austria and Prussia 
— Fall of Napoleon — Campaign of Waterloo, s 

In 1836, when the body of ITapoleon was broiight 
back from St. Helena, the magnificent arch of tri- 
umph which terminates the grand avenue of the 
Champs Elysees, in Paris, was for the first time dedi- 
cated. Frederick Soulier has taken advantage of 
this coincidence to write a long .article entitled " A 
JReview of the DeadP 

After the myriad lamps that lighted all the avenues 
of- the magnificent grounds of the Champs Elysees 
during the evening of the celebration, had been ex- 
tinguished, and the tread of the vast multitude, and 
the hum of their voices, had given place to the silence 
and darkness of night, a sound like the passing wing 



274: THE OLD GUAED. 

of an eagle was heard sweeping by, and lo, a colossal 
shade stood on the top of the arch of triumph. It 
was that of llTapoleon wrapped in the blue mantle 
that folded him on the night after the battle of Ma- 
rengo. As he stood and surveyed the scene, he called 
to his side the shade of his son, and then summoned 
from their distant fields of fame his vast and slumber- 
ing armies. From Egypt, from Palestine, from Italy, 
from Spain, from the snow-drifts of Russia and the 
glaciers of the Alps, from Marengo, and Austerlitz, 
and Jena, and Wagram, and Fried! and, and Leipsic, 
and Waterloo, the dead armies, headed by their re- 
spective leaders, came forth and marched silently 
and swiftly forward. As they approached the vault 
of the arch under which they were to pass, ITapoleon 
pointed out each brave leader to his son. Kleber 
and Desaix, and Lannes bearing the banner of Lodi 
and the sabre of honor of Marengo, and Augereau, 
with the flag that he carried through the tenijDest of 
fire that swept the bridge of Areola, Lefebvre, and 
the two Kellermans and the brave Massena, each fol- 
lowed by their tens of thousands, passed in succes- 
sion, their shadowy footfalls giving back no echo. As 
column after column swept under the arch, the colos- 
sal shade on the top cried out, " close up your ranks 
and press forward, for the morning approaches, and I 
wish to see you all before the day dawns." The brave 
grenadiers marched up, followed as was their wont 



EEVIEW OF THE DEAD. 275 

in the desperate charge, by- the thundering squadrons 
of Bessieres. Murat, on his prancing steed, came 
after, stooping as he bounded beneath the vault, as 
though his phime would reach the lofty arch. Poni- 
atowsky, and Rapp, and last of all, I^N^ey, the bravest 
of the brave, with:)ut arms, pale, and pierced with 
.wounds received on no battle-field, moved by with 
their thousands, and the pageant was over. But be- 
fore they disappeared, the colossal shade stooped and 
pointed with his sword to the arch. A sudden flash 
of lightning illumined the sides, and there these 
heroes saw their names inscribed in imperishable 
rock. 

With the first streakings of dawn in the east, the 
vast and shadowy host disappeared. 

The sentinel on watch that night at the entrance 
of the arch, said that all night long the wind groaned 
and swept in strange whispers through the trees of the 
Champs Elysees and the vault of the arch. It was 
the swift marching of the ghostly columns in this 
" review of the dead." 

Could such a marshalling of the host& of l^apoleon 
take place, what a sj)ectacle would be presented. 
Before the amazing scenes that would rise one after 
another in rapid succession, the mind and senses 
would be overwhelmed. 

But there is another review, though not appealing 
to the senses, which is still more startling and terrific 



276 THE OLD GUAED. 

— a review embracing the progress of civil freedom, 
which marched with those iron columns, whose heavy 
footsteps sounded the death-knell of tyranny in all 
Europe — the waking up of the human mind from the 
sleep of ages, to think and act for itself — the rending 
of fetters — the sudden daylight poured on man's 
oppressions — the breaking up of old systems — the 
upheaving of thrones — the development of moral 
power, and the final launch of the world, with all its 
hopes and interests, upon the turbulent sea of demo- 
cracy. 

In my "I^apoleon and his Marshals," I gave a 
succinct review of the relations the former sustained 
to the nations of Europe, fixing the guilt of the wars 
he waged with such fierceness on the governments 
that surrounded him. Having since observed that 
those who difi'ered with me took those statements as 
mere assertions, I shall be pardoned for devoting the 
last chapter of this work to proofs of what I then 
said, in order to show that while describing his deeds, 
and those of his Guard, I have not been eulogizing 
mere warriors, fighting only for renown, but men 
engaged the greater part of the time in the cause of 
freedom. 

In the first place, no one who professes to give an 
opinion on history denies that the first coalition 
against Erance was without the least provocation. 
The people chose to get rid of the Bourbons and 



ORIGIN OF THE WAES. 27T 

establish a republic, and tbe allied powers chose 
they should not. Their only pretence for going to 
war against a nation with which they were at peace, 
was, that a republic endangered the tranquillity of 
Europe, and the stability of their thrones. They 
considered this an ample reason and needing no 
defence, and so France was assailed on every 
side. 

As we, in both our wars with England, directed 
our efforts at once against Canada, so did France 
move against the Austrian possessions in Italy, and 
for the same reason, viz., because she could more 
easily reach her enemy there. The only difference 
in the two cases is, that we, especially in 1812, 
waged what some might term an offensive war, 
while that of the republic was entirely a defensive one. 
Therefore, as general of the French army in Italy, 
Bonaparte did nothing more than obey his govern- 
ment, while his government, in assailing its enemy, 
did that which no one can for a moment condemn. 
Hence, it is not difficult to designate the authors of 
these bloody wars. 

But after defeating the Austrians, it is said he 
marched into Home, and treated a neutral power as 
an enemy, for the sole love of conquest. Let us look 
at the facts ; Under the mediation of Spain, an ar- 
mistice had been concluded with the Papal States, at 



278 THE OLD GIJAED. 

Bologna, and ratified at Home. Bat Cardinal Busca, 
who succeeded Cardinal Zelada as Secretary of State, 
repudiated this armistice, and openly formed a con- 
nection with Austria, with which France was at war, 
and attempted to raise an army. Having chosen to 
break his plighted word, and become an enemy to 
the republic, the Pope could not expect otherwise 
than to share the fate of an enemy. As good fortune 
would have it, the courier sent from Rome to Vienna 
with despatches announcing this alliance, was inter- 
cepted near Mezzolo. These despatches declared 
that the " armistice of Bologna would not be exe- 
cuted, notwithstanding the loud complaints of the 
French minister, Cacault — that the Pope was raising- 
troops, and that he had accepted the commander-in- 
chief proposed by Austria, and requested that gene- 
ral to bring with him a good number of officers, 
engineers, and artillery." Cacault, of course, was 
ordered by the French government to leave Pome at 
once, and l!Tapoleon marched into the capital of his 
Holiness. With regard to the levies he made on the 
.Pope for thus violating the armistice, and allying 
himself with an enemy, I have nothing to say, for 
ray purpose is not to defend a single action of Napo- 
leon, as a man or a ruler, except it relates to the sim- 
ple question of peace and war. I wish only to show 
on whose shoulders rests the responsibility of those 



THE FIRST CONSUL. 279 

terrific wars which we have so long charged to Bona- 
parte, and which make it seem so criminal in any 

one to defend him. 

The campaign in Egypt which followed, was un- 
dertaken entirely for conquest. Russia had the 
north and most of the west of Asia ; England pos- 
sessed the south ; and Bonaparte declared that 
France should claim the Levant. The expedition 
was based on the self-same motives which prompted 
England to wage an aggressive war in India, and the 
United States in Mexico ; and no reasonable mind 
would ever adduce it, except to prove that France, 
like all other nations, desired colonies, and was not 
very scrupulous about the method of obtaining them. 

"We now come to the appointment of Bonaparte as 
First Consul. 

After his elevation to the head of affairs, he Was 
responsible for the acts of government; for he was, 
in fact, the government, long before he jjlaced on his 
head the imperial crown. 

His first act, on assuming the direction of affairs, 
was noble, and clears him triumphantly from the 
charge of being the author of the war that followed. 
Stepping aside from the usual path of diplomacy, he 
wrote, with his own hand, two letters — one to the 
king of England, and another to the emperor of Ger- 
many. To the first, he said, " Called, Sire, by the 
wishes of the French nation, to occupy the first 



280 THE OLD GUARD. 

magistracy of the Republic, I judge it well, on en- 
tering my office, to address myself directly to your 
majesty. 

" Must the war which, for the last eight years, has 
devastated the four quarters of the world, be eternal ? 
Are there no means of coming to an understanding ? 
How can the two most enlightened nations of Europe, 
stronger already and more powerful than their safety 
or their independence requires, sacrifice, to the ideas 
of vain-glory, the well-being of commerce, internal 
prosperity, and the peace of families ? How is it 
that they do not feel peace to be the first of necessi- 
ties as the first of glories ? 

"These sentiments cannot be strangers to the heart 
of your majesty, who governs a free people, with the 
sole aim of rendering it happy. 

" Your majesty will perceive only in this overture 
the sincerity of my desire to contribute efficaciously, 
for the second time, to a general pacification by this 
prompt advance, perfectly confidential and disem- 
barrassed of those forms, which, perhaps necessary 
to disguise the dependence of weak states, reveal, 
when adopted by strong states, only the wish of 
mutual deception. 

"France and England, by the misuse of their 
powers, may yet, for a long period, retard, to the 
misery of all nations, their own exhaustion. But I 
venture to say that the fate of all civilized nations is 



NAPOLEON DESIRES PEACE. 281 

connected with the termination of a war which has 
set the whole world in flames. 

" (Signed), Bonapaete. 

" First Consul of the French Ilej[>ublicP 

He wrote at the same time to the emperor of Ger- 
many, the following letter : 

" Having returned to Europe after an absence of 
eighteen months, I find a war kindled between the 
French Kepublic and your majesty. 

" The French nation has called me to the occupa- 
tion of the first magistracy. 

" A stranger to every feeling of vain-glory, the 
first of my wishes is, to stop the efi:usion of blood 
which is about to flow. Everything leads me to 
foresee that in the next campaign, numerous armies, 
well conducted, wdll treble the number of victims 
who have already fallen since the resumption of hos- 
tilities. The well known character of your majesty 
leaves me no doubt as to -the secret wishes of your 
heart. If those wishes are only listened to, I per- 
ceive the possibility of reconciling the interests of 
the two nations. 

" In the relations which I have formerly enter- 
tained with your majesty, you have shown me some 
personal regard ; I beg you, therefore, to see in this 
overture, which I have made to you, the desire to 
respond to that regard, and to convince your ma- 



282 THE OLD GUAED. 

jesty more and more of the very distinguislied con- 
sideration whicli I feel towards you. 

" (Signed), Eonaparte." 

Here was a frank and generous challenge to peace, 
made in all sincerity, to two nations which had so 
long waged an unprovoked war against France. 
The king of England would not condescend to reply 
directly, but sent an answer through his minister ; 
and instead of meeting tkese advances towards a 
pacification, he made out a long list of charges 
against France, accusing the Kepublic of violent 
and oppressive acts, declaring that in the present 
change of the government he saw no guarantee for 
the future — in short, that nothing could satisfy his 
majesty but the restoration of the house of Bourbon. 
The whole reply was weak and ridiculous, and was 
so regarded by sensible men at the time. Bonaparte, 
instead of yielding to indignation, replied in court- 
eous terms. Keviewing the past, he proved conclu- 
sively that France took up arms solely to resist an 
aggressive w^ar, made on her by Europe banded 
together to overthrow the Republic ; and while lie 
did not deny that acts of violence had been com- 
mitted, he more than hinted that they who had at- 
tacked France with such animosity, should look to 
themselves as the cause of them. " But," he added, 
" to what good end are all these reminiscences ? 
Here is now a government well disposed to put an 



ENGLAND DESIRES WAR. 283 

end to war. Is the war to be eternal, because this or 
that party was the first aggressor ? And if it be not 
desired to render it eternal, must there not be first an 
end made of these endless recriminations ? At all 
events, if they could not make a peace at once, let 
them agree on an armistice and give time and facili- 
ties for comino; to a ffood understandins^." Lord 
Grenville, the English minister, seeing the ridiculous 
and unpleasant attitude in which Bonaparte had 
placed him, replied in worse temper and worse rea- 
soning than before, and finally confessed that England 
waged war '''■for the security of all governments^'' and 
no offers of peace would be listened to. 

Austria replied in a more becoming manner, and 
for once was perfectly honest, for she declared that 
" war was Garried on^ only to preserve Eur ojpe from a 
general eartJiguaTveP " The security of all govern- 
ments," and the prevention of " a general earth- 
quake," meant the same thing, namely, the destruc- 
tion of a mighty republic that had arisen from under 
a throne in the midst of their thrones. Bonaparte, 
of course, understood the import of this language — 
it was saying emphatically, " We do not want peace ; 
we will not even entertain a proposition for it until 
the republic is no more." Fox, Sheridan, Lord Hol- 
land, and others, bore down with tremendous power 
on this decision of the British government. " You 
ask," said they, " who was the aggressor ? and what 



284- THE OLD GrARD. 

matters that? You say that it is France, and France 
sajs that it is England. Is it then necessary to main- 
tain an internecine war until both nations shall agree 
on a point of history. And what matters it who is 
the aggressor, if that party which is accused thereof 
be the first which offers to lay down its arms ! You 
say it is useless to treat with France. Yet yourselves 
sent Lord Malmsbury to Lille to treat with the Direc- 
tory. Prussia and Spain have treated with the 
French Republic, and have had no cause for com- 
plaint. You speak of ambition, but Eussia, Prussia, 
and Austria, have divided Poland. Austria has re- 
conquered Italy without restoring to their states the 
princes dispossessed by France. Either you will 
never treat at all with the French PepubHc, or you 
will never find a more favorable moment for doing 
so. Unless it be confessed that Great Britain, her 
blood, her treasure, all her resources, the most pre- 
cious, are to be wasted for the re-establishment of the 
house of Bom^bon, no good reason can be assigned 
why we should now refuse to treat." Tierney, also, 
hit the government to the quick — said he, "Do you 
remember the war with America ? Ts it not rather 
for the ^rincvple it represents you are strimngP 
Sheridan referring to the capitulation to Brune, of 
the late English expedition against Holland, said, " It 
seems that if our government cannot conclude treaties 



MAEENGO. 285 

of peace with the French republic, it can at least con- 
clude cajpitulationsy^ 

Bonaparte forced into a war, soon made Europe 
tremble with the tread of his legions. The battles of 
Engen and Maeskirk, Ulm, Genoa, Montibello, 
crowned with the terrible slaughter of Marengo, rest 
not on Bonaparte, nor on the French Eepublic, but 
on England and Austria, which refused even to nego- 
tiate for peace. From this last battle field, Bonaparte, 
deeply affected by the spectacle it presented, wrote 
again a long letter to the emperor of Austria. For- 
getting, in the impulse of the moment, the ceremo- 
nious forms of diplomacy, he said, "It is on the field 
of battle, amid the sufferings of a multitude of the 
wounded, and surrounded by 15,000 corpses, that I 
beseech your majesty to listen to the voice of human- 
ity, and not to suffer two brave nations to cut each 
other's throats for interests not their own. It is my 
part to press this on your majesty, being upon the 
very theatre of war. Tonr majesty's heart cannot 
feel it so keenly as does mine." After the first 
emotions had subsided, he felt somewhat mortified 
that he had given way to such impulsive expres- 
sions to men who calculated everything by the cold 
rules of diplomacy, and in speaking of the letter to 
the consuls, he told them with an air of chagrin, they 

*■ Vide Thiers' Consulate and Empire. 



286 TIIE OLD GUAED. 

^^miglit think it somewhat original^ but it was written 
on the field of battle." 

An armistice followed, and so anxious ^as Bona- 
parte to contract a treaty of peace, that the Austrian 
minister at Paris was persuaded to sign articles con- 
ditionally, although he was not empowered to do so. 

But this long armistice wore away without any defi- 
nite results, and the campaign of Hohenlinden follow- 
ed. Austria, now thoroughly alarmed, agreed to sign a 
peace immediately, although the terms insisted on by 
Bonaparte were much harder than those he had 
induced the Austrian minister during the armistice 
to sign conditionally. It is true France acquired ter- 
ritory by this treaty, and she had a right to do so. 
Austria could expect nothing else from a nation it 
had forced into a war. The great expense and sacri- 
fice necessary to secure the marvellous victories which 
had saved France, demanded some reward. It is 
worthy of remark here, that all the possessions Bona- 
parte obtained, were given up by treaty to compensate 
for an unjust and aggressive war. This was the peace 
of Luneville, signed the 9th of February, 1801. I 
will say nothing of the conditions of that treaty, 
whether hard on the allies or not. Whatever they 
might think of them, they had themselves only to 
thank. 

Both England and Austria at last discovered that 
they could treat with the French Republic, for it 



TREATY OF AMIENS. 287 

began to dawn on them that while fighting for the 
secnrity of other governments, they might not be able 
to take care of their own. 

In Octobei of this year, the celebrated peace of 
Amiens w^as concluded, and Europe w^as at rest. 
Among other conditions in this treaty, England was 
to evacuate Egypt and Malta, and France evacuate 
l^aples, Tarento, and the Roman States. Bonaparte 
carried out his part of the treaty in two months, while 
ten months passed away and England took no steps to 
evacuate Malta and Egypt. When pressed to execute 
the terms of a solemn treaty she shuffled and j^rocras- 
tinated until at length the. First Consul's interference 
in the affairs of Switzerland gave her a pretext for 
her refusal. Eevolution and counter-revolution were 
wrecking the Swiss Confederacy, and Bonaparte, 
called upon for help, marched his troops to the fron- 
tiers, and put down the oligarchs. The expeditious 
and just manner in which he settled the difficulties, 
brought forth warm congratulations from both the 
Russian and Prussian cabinets. England was aston- 
ished to see the only available excuse for violating a 
treaty taken from her hands, but remained stubborn 
to her purpose. 

At length Bonaparte put the question categorically to 
the English minister. Lord "Whitworth, " Will you or 
will you not execute the treaty of Amiens f I have 
executed it on my part with scrupulous fidelity. That 



288 THE OLD GUARD. 

treaty obliged me to evacuate Naples, Tarento, and 
the Roman States within three months, in less than 
two all the French troops were out of those countries. 
Ten months have elapsed since the exchange of the 
ratifications and the English troops are still in Malta 
and at Alexandria. It is useless to try to deceive us 
on this point ; will jou have peace, or will you have 
war?" He declared that he would not see that 
solemn treaty violated — it would disgrace the French 
nation and prove her incapable of defending her 
honor. " For my part," said he, " my resolution is 
fixed ; I had rather see you in possession of the heights 
of Montmartre than of MaltaP He wound up by 
saying, " E'ow, if you doubt my desire to preserve 
peace, listen, and judge how far I am sincere. Though 
yet very young, I have attained a renown to which it 
would be difficult to add. Do you imagine I am 
willing to risk this power in a desperate struggle ? 
But if I have a war with Austria, I will contrive to 
find my way to Yienna. If I have a war with you, I 
will take from you every ally on the continent." In 
this frank manner he went on declaring what he 
wished and what he would do, if forced again into a 
war, saying — that if England was bent on perpetual 
war, he would endeavor to cross the straits, " and^ per- 
Tiaps^ 'bury in the depths of the sea his fortune, his 
glory^ and his lifeP He strained every nerve to 
preserve the peace, and even endeavored to compro- 



ENGLISH PERFIDY. 



289 



mise the matter, by offering to put Malta into the 
hands of the Emperor of Russia in trust, mitil the 
differences between France and England could be 
settled. ISTothing, however, would do ; England was 
bent on a rupture, and Bonaparte seeing that all his 
efforts were useless, said, " Henceforth the treaties 
must he covered with . hlaclc crapeP On the 20th of 
May, 1803, he issued a proclamation declaring the 
rupture of the treaty of Amiens. ISTo one acquainted 
with history doubts on whom the guilt of involving 
Em-ope in the war that followed, and of deluging her 
plains in blood rests. Even Alison, a high tory Eng- 
lish writer, and who never loses an opportunity to 
exculpate his country on the most frivolous pleas, is 
compelled to hold the following remarkable language : 
" In coolly reviewing th^^ circumstances under which 
this contest was renewed^ it is impossible to deny that 
the British government manifested a feverish anxiety 
to come to a rupture^ and that so far as the two coun- 
tries were concerned^ they were the aggressors^ 

Bonaparte immediately pre23ared for war, and the 
invasion of England occupied all his thoughts. In 
the meantime, however, the Emperor of Russia offered 
his mediation, which !N'apoleon at once accepted, and 
proposed to make him " sole arbiter of the great 
quarrel which occupied the world." He even pro- 
mised " to give a hond by which he would engage to 
submit to the award of the Emperor Alexander^ what- 
13 



290 THE OLD GUAED. 

e^er it might he^ confiding entirely in his justice?'* 
England knowing the injustice of her cause, refused 
to make Alexander supreme judge in the case, but 
had no objections to use him as an agent, which 
she endeavored to do. This Bonaparte resented, and 
abruptly abandoned the project. 

Alexander, however, young, ambitious, and giddy, 
became persuaded that it devolved on him to settle 
the affairs of the continent A plan was there- 
fore set on foot for the reconstruction of Em'ope. 
This plan contained many generous features and 
many whimsical ideas. "When submitted to the Eng- 
lish government it was shorn of its visionary por- 
tions and despoiled of its generosity. It was, how- 
ever, a god-send to England, for by her superior 
diplomacy she made it the groundwork of a new co- 
alition against France. I cannot go into the history 
of this coalition. After many alterations and long 
discussions, &c., a plan was formed which proposed 
four things : 1st. To cut down France to her former 
limits before the revolution — i. e., to take away from 
her all she had gained in a defensive war, and which 
had been secured to her by ti^eaty with these very 
powers. Its first object, therefore, was the same as 
if the allied powers should now combine to take from 
.us the territory recently ceded to us by Mexico. The 
only difference in the two cases would be that France 
won her possessions in resisting aggression, and her 



THIRD COALITION. 291 

domination was 23refeiTed bj the people themselves ; 
while we gained ours bj an unprovoked war, and 
forced unwilling subjects to submit to our authority. 
The 2d grand proposition was to dispose of all the 
weaker states as the allies thought proper, without 
any reference to the wishes of the states themselves. 
Austria and Prussia, which would be compelled to 
bear the brunt of' the struggle, they knew must reap 
some decided advantage from the coalition, or they 
would not join it. Lombardy was, therefore, pro- 
mised to Austria, and all the Low Countries to 
Prussia, while the Rejjyiiblics of Italy which I^ajjo- 
leon had formed should be parcelled out to differ- 
ent sovereigns. A more villanous transaction could 
not have been concocted. Its aim, of course, was to 
extinguish all the independent states governed by 
free principles which E"apoleon had set up and de- 
fended. 

The last proposition was in general terms, thrown 
in as a saving clause to cover all their transactions — 
it was " to establish a system of public right 
throughout Europe." This " public right," meant 
security against republican principles. Bonaparte, in 
resisting the aggressive war of Austria, conquered 
her possessions in Italy, and had a perfect right to 
incorporate them into France. But this he refused 
to do, and instead, erected them into a rej^ublic. It 
was not the conquests that Bonaparte was making 



292 THE OLD GUARD. 

thai alarmed tlie sovereigns of Europe, but the inde- 
pendent rej)ublics he formed from the possessions he 
wrung from the enemy, and to which that enemy 
could show no title. These republics, all looking to 
the powerful arm of IVapoleon for protection, were 
like so many ghosts to monarchs, standing and point- 
ing at their thrones. 

This coalition, called the third, which, in the 
end, was to cover Europe with the slain, progressed 
slowly, and seemed averse to enter on the dreadful 
struggle without some excuse to conceal the real 
motives that swayed it. At length that excuse was 
found in the incorporation of Genoa and the Cis-Al- 
pine Republic into the French Empire. The 11th 
article of the treaty of Luneville says, " The contract- 
ing parties shall mutually guarantee the independence 
of Batavia, the Helvetian, Cis- Alpine, and Ligurian 
Republics, and the right to the jpeoj^le who inhabit 
them to ado])t whatever form, of government they 
thirikjitP The merging of these Italian republics, 
therefore, was declared a violation of that treaty and 
a sufficient cause for war. Look at the honesty of the 
pretence here set up. A year before this took place, 
these same upholders of sacred treaties had formed the 
plan to give Holland to Prussia, as a bribe for her co- 
operation ; Lombardy, to Austria ; and the Liguri?n 
Republic to Sardinia. After having deliberately 
resolved to quench these free States, which they had 



ITALIAN REPUBLICS. 293 

guaranteed to preserve, they had the audacity to 
declare that the merging of them into the French 
Empire was the cause of the coalition. Certainly 
if these republics were to disappear as independent 
governments, they belonged to France. She had 
conquered them and refrained originally from incor- 
porating them into her, because she preferred to make 
them free. More than this, who could blame iJs'apo- 
leon when he saw a vast conspiracy forming against 
him, the plan of which he could not get at, for 
strengthening himself on every side? This young 
and enthusiastic ruler had dreamed in his ambition, 
of reconstructing society, of advancing civil freedom 
and waking up men to new views and hopes, and for 
this purpose had made republics out of conquered 
states. But now he looked around him and saw the 
strongest monarchies of Europe concerting together 
for his overthrow. With whom could he combine to 
resist them — with what powers could he form an 
alliance ? There was nothing left to sympathise with 
him but those grateful young republics, and who 
could blame him for wishing their aid to stay up his 
empire ? Any monarch threatened as he was, would 
have done it. But the infamous coalition had not 
even this excuse. By that very article of the treaty 
of Luneville it was guaranteed " to the people the 
right to adopt whatever form of government they 
thought fit," and that right they exercised in choosing 



294 THE OLD GTJAED. 

that of the French Empire. I^apoleon did not incor- 
porate these republics into his empire — he did not 
subvert the free governments he had given them. 
The Cis-Alj)ine RejyiibliG and Genoa^ separately^ in 
Legislature assembled, passed a decree requesting to 
be taken into that Empire. They saw a coming 
storm and avoided it in the best way they could. Sep- 
arately, they could do nothing against a coalition. 
They would be wiped out with a single blow. Hol- 
land was to be given to Prussia; why should not she 
prefer to ally herself with France which had restored 
her independence ? The Cis- Alpine Republic was to 
go back to the dreaded and hated domination of 
Austria ; why should she not prefer the sway of JS'a- 
poleon, when he guaranteed to her free laws ? Genoa 
was to be handed over to the tyrannical king of Sar- 
dinia ; how could she do otherwise than ask the pro- 
tection of the French eagles? All these states saw 
that trouble was brewing, and they knew whatever 
shape it took, the success of the allies would ensure 
their overthrow. IsTo alternative, therefore, was left 
them, and as they had a right to choose their own form 
of government, they of course had the right also to 
choose their relations to France. That Napoleon, 
when he saw the drift of things, desired and sought 
the incorporation of these separate republics into his 
empire, no one doubts. France had changed into a 
monarchy, and a corresponding change would natu- 



HOLLAND. 295 

rally pass over those who relied for safety on her 
protection ; still no violence or threats were used. 
The senate of Genoa, by a vote of twenty out of 
twenty-two, resolved to ask to be incorporated into the 
French Empire in order to partake of its fortunes and 
enjoy its prosperity. This vote, before being exe- 
cuted, was submitted to the people. Registers were 
opened, and the people called upon to give their suf- 
frages on the question. The majority in favor of the 
incorporation was overwhelming. Lucca sent the 
same request, but Kapoleon refused, and made it 
instead a separate principality. The Cis-Alpine, or, 
as it had become, the Italian Republic, through its 
vice-president. Count Melzi, asked of the French 
Senate to be incorporated into the Empire, declaring 
" it saw no other way of saving its infant institutions." 
The Yice President then read " the fundamental arti- 
cles of the act of settlement by which IN'apoleon was 
declared King of Italy." Holland, though long ago 
conquered by the French, was still a free state, though 
a close ally of France, and bound by treaty to share 
her fortunes. As the final disappearance of this old 
commonwealth into a monarchy, with a brother of 
l^apoleon at its head, has often been bitterly de- 
nounced, it may not be amiss to glance at its history. 
For a long succession of years the Netherlands 
were divided into two parties, Orange and anti- 
Orange. Without referring to other diflerences, it ia 



296 THE OLD GUAED. 

necessary for our purpose to state only tliat tlie anti- 
Orange was the repuhlican party. These two factions 
strove against each other with various successes till 
1747, when the Orange party triumphed and the dig- 
nity of Stadtholder was made hereditary in the family 
of William lY. In 1786, however, the republicans 
again obtained the ascendency and drove the Stadt- 
holder out of the provinces. But Prussia coming to 
the rescue with 25,000 men, the Orange party was 
reinstated in power. The French Kevolution followed, 
and when in 1794 the republican army approached 
the frontiers of Holland, the patriots again rose, and 
with its aid, overthrew the hereditary Stadtholder. 
A republic was immediately formed after the model 
of that of France. The result was, Great Britain 
declared war against her and robbed her of some of 
her most valuable colonies, and nearly destroyed her 
commerce and finances. This is the famous conquest 
of Holland by France. She put an end to her inter- 
nal troubles, and gave her a free and independent 
government, while England, which declaimed so 
loudly against the rapacity of the new republic, 
robbed her of her territory as unscrupulously as she 
has since robbed India of her possessions. It was 
owing to the bankruptcy which England had caused 
that compelled her at length to seek admission into 
the French Empire. In view of the evils that em • 
barrassed the state, the states-general sent four am- 



EFFECTS OF THE COALITION. 297 

bassadors to Paris, wlio declared, that Holland saw no 
escape from bankruptcy, and requested, as a favor, to 
be incorporated into tlie. empire. " They even prof- 
fered to let their debt remain chargeable upon them- 
selves and to make every exertion to pay, provided 
they were no longer called upon to submit to a 
greater amount of taxation than the French. These 
ambassadors remained four months in Paris and were 
finally authorised to offer the crown to Louis. " We 
come," said they, " of our own accord and supported 
by nine-tenths of the suffrages of our fellow country- 
men to entreat you to unite your fate with ours, 
and to raise a whole people from the perils with 
which they are threatened." :N"apoleon was com- 
pelled to command before he could induce his bro- 
ther to accept the crown. So much for the destruc- 
tion of this ancient commonwealth, brought about by 
British avarice and not . French ambition. But this 
fusion of the republic into that of France did not 
take place till long after the coalition I have been 
speaking of. At that time it was independent and 
sustained no relation to France, except that of an 
ally. 

Althou2:h the offer of this commonwealth could not 
bribe Prussia into the coalition formed by England 
and Russia, the latter pron.lsed to precipitate secretly 
a large army upon her frontier, under the pretence of 
protecting her, which should, and did prove a conclusive 



298 THE OLD GUAED. 

argument. Austria, however, voluntarily came into 
it, and the campaign of Austerlitz followed. For the 
bloody battles that were only preparatory to the 
crowning slaughter at Austerlitz, who is responsible ? 
JSTot Napoleon, not France, but the coalition. The 
treaty of Presbourg immediately succeeded this bril- 
liant victory, and Austria and France were at peace. 
Russia, Prussia, and England, however, maintained 
the contest, and the campaigns of Jena, Eylau, 
and Friedland, followed — all the sad results of 
this infamous coalition, which ITapolBon, however, 
with his terrific blows broke into a thousand frag- 
ments. The peace of Tilsit again put the conti- 
nental powers at peace, but England feeling safe in 
her isolated position, still maintained her belligerent 
attitude. 

The troubles with Spain succeeded this interregnum 
of Var. I shall not attempt to defend this invasion, 
although viewed through the medium of European 
diplomacy there is much that might be said in pal- 
liation of Napoleon's conduct. His entrance into 
Spain was welcomed by the intelligent portion of the 
realm as calculated to put an end to the internal 
troubles and the weak government under which they 
suffered. ISTapoleon was not so much deceived by 
the representations made him, as many suppose. 
Joseph would have been welcomed by the strength of 
the nation, and the partial resistance soon have 



FALSE REASONING. 299 

ceased, but for the interference and encouragement of 
England. 

But granting all that the bitterest enemy may say 
of Napoleon's conduct towards Spain, which all things 
considered, is doubtless very like our treatment of 
Mexico, what shall we say of the authors of the cam- 
paigns of Abensberg, Landshut, Eckmuhl, Aspern, 
and Wagram, and at whose doors shall we lay the 
guilt of covering Europe with mangled and bleeding 
hosts ? Thus far history is plain and the testimony of 
candid historians, although enemies, harmonise in one 
conclusion. Even the uncandid are compelled to 
resort to the ridiculous assertion that the allies were 
justified in their course, because they foresaw clearly 
the mounting ambition of IS^apoleon. It was neces- 
sary to check at once this ambitious spirit that other- 
wise would ride over Europe. It is an old proverb, 
" there is no reasoning against prophecy." It is 
always the resort of a weak cause. But still unpre- 
judiced men will think that to create a war in order 
to prevent one — to set Europe in a blaze to keep it 
from taking fire, is rather a novel mode of proceed- 
ing. Besides, to punish a person in advance because 
he may do wrong, to hang a man to prevent him from 
committing murder, or cast him into a prison because 
he shows a strong tendency to steal, would be consid- 
ered a very singular mode of administrating law. If 
this mode of reasoning can be justified, the original 



300 . THE OLD GITAitD. 

holy alliance lias now a perfect riglit to demand Kos- 
suth and chain him to a rock in the midst of the 
ocean, as it did ^Napoleon, because his freedom en- 
dangers, in their opinion, the peace of Europe, and 
in case of refusal on our part, to declare war against 
us^.. _ Certainly if the reasoning is ever good that Eng- 
land and Russia, without one foot, of their territoiy 
being violated, have a right to form a coalition against 
an independent power because they think the " se- 
curity of Europe" requires it, they have that right 
now, and it makes no difference whether it be France 
or America which is to be struck. 

Leaving Spain with all the obloquy and wrong 
attached to its invasion without a word of excuse, 
what, as I said before, shall be said of the new war 
that followed in Germany. The ruddy fields of 
Abensberg, Landshut, Eckmuhl, Aspern, and Wa- 
gram covered with mangled men cry out for ven- 
geance against some one. Who violated the treaty 
of Presbourg, Il^apoleon or the Emperor of Austria ? 
The former was in Spain with his army, far removed 
from any interference with the German Empire. 
"Why then did Austria arm herself and plunge Cen- 
tral Europe again into all the horrors of war ? Be- 
cause she thought that l!^apoleon was so entangled in 
the mountains of Spain that she could strike him a 
mortal blow before he could recover himself. I have 
never seen^ from the most prejudiced writer, any 



ATISTEIAN PEEFIDT. 801 

defence of this violation of a sacred treaty on the 
part of Austria. Napoleon was enraged, and stig- 
matized it, " ^ war witJiout an object^ and without a 
fT&textP '-^ Thrice^ said he ^ '^ has Austria perjured 
itself. ^^ Yet how few Americans in reading the 
description of the battles of Aspern and Wagram 
fail to ntter exclamations of horror against Napoleon, 
as though on his soul rested the blood of the slain, 
whereas he was enraged beyond measure at the per- 
fidy of Austria which forced him to recall his troops 
from Spain. 

The treaty of Yienna followed, by which Austria 
lost extensive possessions^ France gained territory — 
what other indemnification could she receive for such 
an expensive war, forced on her in the face of a 
sacred treaty, and what other punishment could Na- 
poleon infiict on a perjured nation, that like an assas- 
sin, had endeavored to stab his empire in the dark ? 
Napoleon is not to blame for wresting territory from 
Austi'ia as a compensation for the losses of war, but 
for not dismembering her, dividing her three crowns, 
thus prostrating her independence and power forever. 

I have not time to go into the changes produced in 
Switzerland and Italy, besides I am not defending 
Napoleon's acts, except when the simple question as 
to the authors of a war is to be settled. 

Thus far it is easy to fix the guilt of nearly every 
war that desolated Europe for so many years. They 



802 THE OLD GUARD. 

were bronglit about by some or all of tbe allied 
powers under the pretence of guarding against dan- 
ger or to get back territory which had been ceded by 
treaty. 

The next war, the one with Kussia, grew out of the 
irritation of the latter at the great accessions of terri- 
tory to the French Empire, and from the fear that 
ISTapoleon would attempt to reinstate Poland. Leav- 
ing aside all other ostensible and real motives, the 
war would doubtless have been prevented, had ITapo- 
leon consented to the demand of Russia, " that tlie 
hingdonh of Poland should never he established^ and 
that her name should he effaced forever from every 
publio and offtcial actP There were other causes of 
grievances on both sides, but not enough to have dis- 
turbed the peace of Europe, could this have been 
guaranteed. Napoleon consented to " bind himself 
to give no encouragement tending to its re-establish- 
ment," but he would not go a step farther. The 
slight to the Emperor Alexander's sister by abruptly 
breaking off the negotiation of marriage, and the swal- 
lowing up of the possessions of the Grand Duke of 
Oldenburg, his brother-in-law, were among other in- 
citements to hostility ; but the fear that this Colos- 
sus, who strode with such haughty footsteps over 
Europe, might yet lay his hand on Poland and wrest 
from him his ill-gotten possessions, was at the bottom 
of the warlike attitude which he assumed. This 



myAsioN OF EiJSsiA. 803 

fact which cannot be denied, shows that E'apoleon had 
done nothing that could sanction Russia in breaking 
that alliance, offensive and defensive, formed at the 
peace of Tilsit. But France needed but little provo- 
cation to justify her in assailing a power that with 
short intervals had so long waged an unprovoked war 
against her. Removed so far from the theatre of hos- 
tilities, Russia had been able to inflict severe troubles 
on France while the latter could do nothing in return 
but crush her armies. . 

In short, Alexander entered on this war because he 
anticipated encroachments on his possessions, ob- 
tained some fifteen years before by one of the most 
unholy conquests recorded in the annals of modern 
civilization. I^apoleon was not averse to the war, for 
ne also began to look out for the future, and there 
could be no better time than now when all Europe 
marched under his standard, not only to chastise Russia 
for the injury she had done France, but to prevent 
her from inflicting it in future. "Without doubt there 
was blame on both sides, but the unprejudiced reader 
of history will, all things considered, have no hesi- 
tation in placing the heaviest proportion on Russia. 

But what shall be said of the desolating wars that 
followed the disasters of the Russian campaign? 
Austria and Prussia had both entered into a so'emn 
treaty with J^apoleon and put their troops under his 
command in the invasion of Russia, yet no sooner 



S04 THE OLD GUAED.' 

did they behold his army in fragments than with a 
perfidy and meanness unparalleled in the history of 
civilized nations, they joined hands with Kussia, and 
rnshed forward to strike with deadlier blows an 
already prostrate ally. It is generally regarded a 
point of honor among men never to desert a friend 
and ally in distress — and to fight by the side of a friend 
one day against a common enemy, and on the next 
turn and smite him for no other reason than because 
bleeding and staggering under the discomfiture he 
has met with he is no longer able to defend himself, 
is considered the meanest act of an ignoble soul and 
the last step to which human baseness can descend. 

I suppose it will be unnecessary for me to attempt 
to prove on whom rests the guilt of the battles of 
Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, Culm, Gros Beren, Katz- 
back, Dennewitz, Leipsic, with its awful slaughter, 
and Hanau — or of those other murderous engagements 
on the soil of France — of the battles of Brienne, Ro- 
thiere, Champaubert, Montmirail, Yauchamps, Mon- 
tereau, Craon, Laon, and of Paris, unless it is neces 
sary to prove a monarch has a right to defend his 
crown, and a brave people their own soil. Yillany 
for once, atjeast, triumphed, and perfidy and treach- 
ery were rewarded with success. Prussia and Aus- 
tria by falling suddenly on their prostrate ally suc- 
ceeded in'strangling him. 

The coalition was successful, and IN'apoleon robbed 



WATERLOO. 305 

of his crown and his empire was sent to Elba. It 
was natural that the monarchs of Austria and Prus- 
sia, whose thrones, l^apoleon when he held them in 
his power had respected, should crown their debase- 
ment by taking from him his. A few months before 
they had sworn to defend him against Eussia, and now 
at her request to strip him not merely of his possessions 
but of his crown, was only doing as violators of their 
oaths and betrayers of friends have always done. 

Like villains of a baser sort, however, they began 
to quarrel over the spoils they had obtained. There 
was mustering of armies and all the preparations for 
a bloody war, but they at length each retired with his 
portion. 

There is but one more war the guilt of which it is 
necessary to fix before the curtain drops on the pub- 
lic life of Napoleon, and the Holy Alliance has it all 
its own way on the continent. The manner in which 
]^apoleon mounted his recovered throne was the best 
title to it he could have had. The heart of the peo- 
ple replaced him there, and as his triumph had been 
peaceable, so did he wish his reign to be. 'No one is 
so insane as to assert that he desired the war that 
ended in the disasters of Waterloo. War was de- 
clared against him by the infamous coalition which 
had so often attempted his overthrow. To his offers 
of peace the allies returned no answer, for they had 
none to give. His complete destruction would satisfy 



306 THE OLD GUARD. 

them, and notliing else. He strove nobly to save 
himself, but could not. The dead at Quatre Bras, 
Ligny, and Waterloo are silent but awful witnesses 
against the tyranny that forced them to struggle for 
monarchs who were governed solely by ambitious 
views and unworthy jealousies. The defence set up 
for the allies that ITapoleon would not long be 
quiet, I have before considered. To cause sixty thou- 
sand men to be slain in order to prevent a nation 
from declaring war, may do very well at the tribunal 
of European diplomacy, but before the " court of high 
heaven," it will meet with a different reception. Be- 
sides ISTapoleon offered to form a treaty of peace, and 
they could not suppose he could break it with more 
deliberate faithlessness than England had violated the 
treaty of Amiens, or Austria that of Presbourg, or 
both Austria and Prussia their plighted word after 
the disasters of the Russian campaign. ^Neither 
could Russia believe he would grasp any state with 
more cruel ferocity, and oppress it with heavier bur- 
dens than she had seized and loaded Poland. Eno-land 
it is true might be compelled to give up the French 
possessions in the West Indies which she had seized 
as a part of her spoil, and the time might arrive when 
INapoleon w^ould bring to terrible account the faith- 
less allies who had turned on him in his misfortunes, 
and stripped him of his empire. All this maybe 
veiy true, and furnish an easy explanation to the war 



SECURITY OF GOVERNMENT. 307 

that closed with the night on the field of Waterloo, 
but in heaven's name charge not the terrible slaugh- 
ter and suffering that accompanied it to ISTapoieon. 
ITever in a worse situation to carry on hostilities, he 
would have signed almost any treaty rather than have 
risked his throne in a premature struggle. What he 
midit have done in the future, what wars he might 
have waged, and what guilt he might have incurred, 
I leave to prophets to determine ; but for the war 
which finished him, and the sufferings attached to it, 
he is guiltless. 

In this review I have touched only on the chief 
points because I had not space to treat the matter 
more fully. My motive has been to show that the 
gallant deeds of the Old Guard, which I have re- 
corded, are not to be classed with those of Csesar's 
legions. The part ISTapoieon and his Guard performed 
is one of the most important in history. The hand 
of heaven is visible throughout. They were destined 
to shatter feudalism into a thousand fragments, and 
no less power than theirs could have done it. Where 
would have Ipeen civil freedom in Europe, without 
them — where that progress in the knowledge cf the 
people respecting their rights, which has since shorn 
kings of their pride and taught them civility to their 
subjects ? In struggling for the divine right of kings' 
and the security of monarchies, tlie haughty ^nd 
unscrupulous powers of Europe undermined . both. 



308 THE OLD GUARD. 

Instead of burying republicanism fathoms deep, they 
sowed dragons' teeth, the fruit of which they are now 
reaping. 

The truth is, our prejudices have all been obtained 
from English papers and English literature. But if 
one wishes to know how much these can be relied on, 
let him turn to the same papers and same authorities, 
and read the accounts of the war of 1812. If we 
believe the one history we should the other. It is 
true, in abiding by this fair rule, we would be com- 
pelled to put ourselves in the same category with 
Kapoleon, and look upon our government as alone 
guilty of that war. By her showing, England never 
yet was wrong. But alas, history proves that although 
she declaimed so loudly against Napoleon's grasping 
spirit, she has since acquired more territory in tlie 
Indies than she ever charged him with conquering. 
Let us beware how we adopt the opinions of the ene- 
mies of republicanism as our own, and render all 
honor to the brave who have borne a part second only 
to ourselves in the regeneration of all human govern- 
ments. 

In conclusion, I would ask my countrymen to look 
at the conduct of Russia in the last struggle of Hun- 
gary for liberty. What sent the northern hordes 
against that brave people and laid their liberties and 
their nationality in the dust ? Rest assured the same 
motive that sent her against the French Eepublic and 



POLICY OF DESPOTISM. 309 

afterwards against JSTapoleon. "What now causes 
Austria to whip and imprison Hungarian ladies and 
patriots and expel Americans from her borders as if 
they were degraded criminals ? — the same motive 
that impelled her to break treaties and violate her 
honor in the effort to overthrow Napoleon, viz., " the 
security of governments^'' " to jprevent a general earth- 
gudke,^^ What induces the king of Naples to fill the 
prisons of his kingdom with the noblest men in it ? 
The ^'-security of gomrnmentP "What, places the 
continent under a general system of espionage and 
makes domiciliary visits nece^ssary and suspected 
persons criminals without testimony? — '-^ security of 
government^ What causes us to be viewed with a 
jealous, suspicious eye — our movements watched — our 
actions misrepresented, and our institutions slandered? 
" the security of government What lies at the bot- 
tom of the -horrible oppressions that are weekly 
borne to our ears from the despotisms of Europe ? The 
same that lay at the foundation of the perfidy and 
falsehood, and perjury, and perpetual wars that dis- 
crowned Napoleon, and for a while hushed the cry 
of freedom, that rising from revolutionary France, 
swept like a whirlwind over Europe. Remember 
this when you hear of the " balance of power," 
" security of government," which are terms used 
simply to cover up the oppressions, and barbarity, 



810 THE OLD GTJAED. 

and selfishness that have made the thrones of Central 
Europe for so many ages a curse to mankind. Re- 
member that in siding with feudalism jou condemn 
yom^selves. 



THE END. 






' ^<itmti:a 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



